


every fire, a lesson learned

by androgenius



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Rimming, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vaginal Sex, felileth... sort of, one-sided dimileth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgenius/pseuds/androgenius
Summary: When Dimitri's lack of masturbation catches up with him, it's Felix who ends up having to suffer the consequences. After all, they share a wall.Unfortunately, Felix is very bad at coping with just about anything.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 69
Kudos: 341





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This... started off as something completely different, changed drastically, and then changed all over again about two-thirds of the way through. Along the way, I got a ridiculous amount of help from [somewhereflying](https://archiveofourown.org/users/somewhereflying), without whom this fic probably wouldn't exist right now ♥

When it first started, Felix thought that it would be a temporary annoyance, something that would pass soon enough. 

After two weeks of putting up with that bullshit, Felix finds himself forced to acknowledge that it's not to be, that he'll have to contend with the whimpers and moans from nextdoor for the foreseeable future. 

He doesn't discount his fault in this, at least to some degree. He's always been a light sleeper, but-- _every_ night? Seriously?

At first, he thinks that the boar prince is just shamelessly masturbating around three, four in the morning on a nightly basis like some kind of heathen, but further investigation-- and frankly, he hates the concept of him _investigating_ anything involving that boar, but sleepless nights demand it to a certain extent-- leads him to believe that they're dreams. The timing is too spread out, too inconsistent. Quiet mewls and whimpers along with the occasional name-- _Professor_. 

_Predictable_. 

He's almost tempted to tease Dimitri about it when he sees him in the mornings after what sound to him like particularly heated dreams-- they always are when they wake him up, after all-- but then ultimately decides against it. 

He's not _that_ much of an ass.

It's not like Dimitri can help it-- especially not if he isn't jacking off on a regular basis. He can only presume that he already regularly shames himself for his routinely soiled bedsheets; he doesn't need Felix to make it worse. 

Even if it is fucking annoying. 

More than that, though (it's not like he was sleeping all too well _before_ Dimitri had a sexual fucking awakening on account of their newest teacher), it's started to make him wonder what the fuck is even so appealing about Byleth that Dimitri would be coming himself in his sleep over her every night. 

Sure, she's talented with a blade. Any former mercenary would have to be. She's clearly intelligent enough to teach. And she is a woman. 

But... _really_?

It's not until she invites him to _tea_ , of all things, and even manages to correctly guess at his favorite type, that he reconsiders his opinion on her… somewhat. 

(That, or she chose Almyran Pine Needle by chance. But the odds of that are ridiculously low. And there's no way it's her favorite tea, too.) 

But even then-- so what? She's observant, kind, considerate. A decent friend to have, then, and a good mentor considering her myriad talents on and off the battlefield. 

She really _is_ good with a blade. 

It's during her next training session with the lot of them that he's reminded of just how good. He watches her form, her grace, the sheer level of skill in each of her movements, a good reminder of how much improving he really has left to do.

He has much to learn, and he approaches her for more training soon after. 

Even there, she's almost impossible to best. 

The difference between the formal training he's received and Byleth's experience from her time as a mercenary could not be more different. 

Even in spite of her form and grace, the flow of her movements, there's something undeniably _opportunistic_ about them. Willing to do anything to win. 

It makes an irritating amount of sense, and it showcases precisely where he is lacking most. 

All right. 

So maybe, just maybe, on a purely hypothetical level... he could get it. 

He doesn't, but he could. 

He _hates_ that.

&

At the same time-- he returns to the thought after mulling it over for a few days-- that couldn't possibly be all there is to it, could it? Admiration of her skill, like Felix has? To evoke _such_ a strong reaction?

The boar's always been an emotional fool, but even so. What is it about _her_ specifically that draws him in? 

After all, plenty of the girls in the Blue Lions are kind, capable, and considerate. Sure, some of them might be annoyingly overbearing, but-- that probably wouldn't bother Dimitri all too much. 

Does he just find her _attractive_? 

For the first time since her arrival, Felix bothers to actually look at their professor-- _properly_. He... supposes that she's good-looking enough as far as women are concerned; well-defined waist, shapely silhouette, decent, symmetrical face, thick, strong thighs from years of training out in the real world.

It's almost more impressive than it is attractive, but... 

He can't deny that it does have a certain… quality to it. Not enough to justify coming yourself in your sleep, but he supposes that part can't be helped. Then again, maybe it's just not his thing.

He really should just learn to jerk off, _the moron_. 

&

Dealing with his own annoying urges has never been a problem for Felix. It's all very utilitarian-- he finds his thoughts straying and knows it's time to set aside fifteen minutes that evening to just get it out of his system. 

He doesn't think about anything, he just _does_. 

He takes his cock in his hand and tries to let the pump of his hand clear his thoughts as usual.

But it doesn't come. 

He thinks about Dimitri and the glow on his face after receiving their professor's praise, thinks about the grunts and moans that meet him every night through the wall separating them, and _growls--_ anything to try and make the thought of the boar prince go away. 

In their place, their professor's face takes shape, a reminder of his recent conundrum. She's attractive, sure, but it's moreso her talent on the battlefield that would make her appealing to Felix, and suddenly he _is_ thinking about the shape of her thigh and the curve of her ass when she's mid-swing of her blade, cleavage just spilling past the top of her outfit-- 

Why is a professor even wearing something that revealing in the first place? No wonder his mind is straying. 

Then again... Professor Manuela doesn't exactly bother to cover up her... _everything_ , either. Compared to her, their professor is a veritable saint. 

It occurs to him then that his hand has slowed in its movements, his erection having begun to wilt somewhat.

He needs to _focus_.

He growls again, doing his best to push away thoughts of Byleth's face, of Professor Manuela's everything, of the smell of Dimitri's hair, the whiff he caught that afternoon that has lingered with him since if only because it's so _different_ from how it used to be when they were children, the glowing smile on Dimitri's face when he talks to their professor--

 _Fuck_. 

He reaches down to cup his balls, running his thumb over the head of his cock, suddenly finding himself wishing that he had anything in his arsenal to masturbate to aside from _nothing_ , which isn't very appealing when put up against theoretically attractive people. 

Theoretically. He doesn't _actually_ find them attractive, he just realizes that they might be viewed that way by others, as they are objectively… symmetrical, maybe. 

The alternative is actually finding their personalities and individual qualities appealing, and that is somehow _more_ upsetting.

 _Especially_ when it comes to Dimitri, someone he is supposed to find deplorable.

He considers for a moment going to find Sylvain to ask him for porn, but ultimately decides that that would be the worst possible idea. Not only because Sylvain would never let him live it down-- though, really, that's a majorly contributing factor-- but also because he's not entirely sure that Sylvain doesn't just go out to try and find a warm pussy to stick his dick into whenever he feels so inclined.

Then again, considering his techniques... he can't be _that_ successful. 

Still, he's not asking Sylvain for porn. 

Besides-- he's not even sure it would do him much good. What is he even attracted to? Professor Manuela has never drawn so much as a second glance from him, no matter how much her clothing may look like a particularly suggestive negligee. The concept of tits and ass or even cocks on their own never held much appeal to him. 

Why, then, is he thinking about the boar prince and his stupid fucking fixation?

He's just close enough to coming that he decides in that moment to make a mistake and just fucking lean into it, the images flooding him all at once.

 _The professor in her battlewear, parrying blow after blow with perfect precision_ \-- his hand moving faster atop his cock now-- _the sweat on Dimitri's brow_ \-- no, wait, not Dimitri, he doesn't even belong here-- _the heave of the professor's chest as even she becomes worn down over time_ \-- a shaky exhale leaves him-- _what Dimitri must look like when he's touching himself_ \-- he cups his balls again, firmer this time, biting down on his lower lip-- _the smile on Dimitri’s face-_ \- Felix thinks he might be losing it a little-- _Dimitri, blushing crimson as a result of one of Felix's insults that didn't end up sounding like an insult at all_ \-- his toes curl, every muscle in his legs starting to tighten-- _Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri--_ he's _so_ close--

He arches his ass off the bed as he comes onto his stomach with a sharp grunt, come spurting further than he's normally used to. 

Then again, he's never... fantasized about anything before now. It's... different.

He's breathing harder than normal now that he's coming down from his orgasm. Did he forget to, earlier? 

Ridiculous. 

His mind plays back the mental images that actually made him finish as if on a reel intended to shame him, and he lets out a dismissive grunt.

As though he could reject what he already knows to be true somehow. 

If only it was as easy to walk away from yourself as it is from everyone else. 

Reaching for a handkerchief as he sits up, he cleans up after himself and lets out a shaky breath, fingers running through his hair. 

This is Dimitri's fault, isn't it? Putting these thoughts in his head.

That has to be it. He's been spending far too much time thinking about that boar as of late, anyway. 

&

As much as he tries to avoid the boar prince over the next two weeks, it's impossible. Almost more impossible than avoiding the boar's _crush_ , which, well. He already knew to be impossible if he opted for not skipping any of her lectures.

And seeing as skipping would imply that Dimitri's shit somehow actually managed to get to him...

He doesn't. 

Which, of course, means that he can't avoid Dimitri, either.

He grits his teeth and pretends he isn't suddenly catching sight of things he never used to. The wistful, dreamy expression on Dimitri's face as he gazes up at Byleth. 

The way his gaze sometimes dares to stray down... and how she either doesn't seem to notice _or_ simply doesn't care. 

And, well... he supposes she is rather... _symmetrical_ , but _honestly_. 

He does throw a quick " _stop staring_ ," at Dimitri on his way out of the classroom-- leaving the boar prince looking suitably ashamed-- but he doesn't bother to do much of anything beyond that. 

Not until the next day, at least.

Usually it's he who approaches the others to invite them out for training. After all, quick duels opposite different partners are the best way he's found so far to figure out where he's lacking. 

Today, though, it's Dimitri that approaches him, sword in hand. 

"Care to train?"

"Is this about yesterday?"

"And here I was under the impression that you always wanted to hone your blade." 

"Fine. Just don't make it personal."

The thing about duelling an old friend is that it almost feels like slipping back into an old pair of shoes, worn long enough to make them comfortable and then forgotten. Dimitri's movements are as foreign now as they are predictable. He knows his weaknesses, has learned to fixate on them over the years. 

Just as much, perhaps, as Dimitri has attempted to fix the gaps in his education. 

Their training was remarkably similar-- unlike their professor's style of fighting, theirs is methodical and clean; _honorable_ , almost, though the word leaves a bad taste in its wake almost as soon as he thinks it.

The boar prince isn't worthy of the word anymore.

Even so, they're evenly matched. It's as expected as it is upsetting, Felix pushing forward while Dimitri parries each and every one of his blows. 

The match could go on for hours, he thinks, if they didn't tire of it.

The shock of dark teal hair that catches his attention out of the corner of his eye is striking enough that it almost makes him look away from the match. 

She's here, watching them. 

_Is she here for Dimitri? Has she noticed how he stares, and come to return the favor? She's almost as observant as he is, she_ must _have noticed Dimitri's crush--_

Somehow, the thought becomes enough for Dimitri to gain the upper hand, his blade in Felix's face with a triumphant smile. 

He has to resist the urge to sneer in response. 

"Seems like we should do this more often. What do you say?"

He's about to respond when Byleth steps out to join them, the sight of her finally catching Dimitri off-guard, as well. 

"Well done," she tells Dimitri, the words enough to suddenly have him glowing. It's obvious by the expression on his face that he's doing everything in his power to try and keep from grinning like a lunatic. 

"Don't be too generous with him, professor. He might piss himself from excitement alone."

"Thank you, professor. It means a lot to hear that from you."

The fact that his jab is going entirely ignored is even more insulting than the compliment he received, and he grits his teeth as he watches the boar prince-- practically _beaming_ along the way-- head back inside.

As though he deserves to feel that kind of elation in the first place. 

Stupid little fool. 

"-- like this," Byleth finishes, her hand suddenly on his arm, and Felix realizes belatedly that she's been giving him _instructions_. "That way you won't leave yourself open to attack." 

"Thanks," he grits out, suddenly wishing he could _spit_ on Dimitri, steal the smile right off of his pretty fucking face. 

"He respects you." 

He almost laughs. What a hollow sentiment.

"And that means I have to respect him? No, thanks. I don't care to make that mistake twice."

"You could learn a lot from each other. He's more grown-up than you realize."

This time, he does scoff. "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what he got up to at night."

"What?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything." 

"What does he do?"

Oh, great. So she did hear him perfectly well.

"It's nothing."

"Enough for you to mention it."

"He's keeping me up. That's all."

She stares at him. Maybe if he volunteers the information himself she won’t ask him to fucking clarify.

"After all these years, he just can't stop himself from wetting the bed all over again. Back then, it was nightmares. Now, it's a certain professor."

He really wants to know how she manages to look so fucking unfazed in response to him saying something like that.

"Does that bother you?"

He almost trips on his words.

"-- what?"

"Does it bother you?"

"That he keeps me up at night with his moaning and groaning? Yeah. 'course it does. I would have to be insane for it not to."

"That he's interested in me."

Felix stares at her for a long time after that. 

_Does_ it bother him? 

It didn't before-- except that, yes, it did. It bothered him enough to spend days considering what was so appealing about their professor. 

"Why _would_ it?"

"You tell me."

Is that a _challenge_? He steels himself, squares his jaw. Crosses his arms. 

"It wouldn't. That's the whole point."

"All right," she says, clearly not believing him in the slightest. "If you say so."

She walks away then, signaling the end to their conversation, and he officially feels as though he's lost two duels instead of one.

_Why the hell does she care?_

&

He cares, he decides after a few hours of brooding. He cares a fucking lot. 

Slicing up training dummies isn't good enough anymore to quell the-- whatever the fuck this is. He's pretty sure it's anger. But-- it's complicated. Then again, all of his anger is. It's just easier to express that way. 

Anger is easy and comfortable even as it carries his steps all the way to Dimitri's door. He knocks twice and waits, ready to just try the door himself by the time he opens it.

"Felix! I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon."

"I want a rematch."

Dimitri _laughs_ , and Felix wants to strangle him a little. 

"I didn't realize me besting you in a single duel would upset you so. Of course we can have a rematch. I wouldn't dream of denying you."

"You're so fucking fake," Felix mutters as he turns around to head back out, but it's quiet enough that Dimitri doesn't seem to hear him. 

They walk to the grounds in silence, Felix swinging his sword as though it might disperse some of his anger in advance. He needs to focus. He can't afford to lose this one, not if he wants to keep from breaking Dimitri's nose. 

The first swing seems to already take him off-balance, Felix throwing in more of Byleth's tricks into the duel than ever before-- things that border on playing dirty, things out of a mercenary's playbook that Dimitri wouldn't expect. 

He starts to laugh when Felix has him at the end of his sword in record time, as though that would be the end of it. 

But it isn't, not by a long shot.

He tosses his blade aside before grabbing hold of Dimitri's wrist and wrenching his sword out of his grasp as well. He only starts struggling when he catches sight of the fierce, unyielding glare in Felix's gaze, but Felix has had the upper hand from the beginning, and he doesn't slow until they're both on the ground, Dimitri trapped beneath him. He's straddling him, his wrists pinned on either side of his head, and, for just a moment, Felix feels his anger ebb a bit, the sight of the helplessness in Dimitri's eyes somehow placating.

"What the _hell_ , Felix?"

... and just like that, it's back.

"Don't you _what the hell_ me. I won this round, fair and square." 

"Is _that_ what this is about?"

"The next time you decide you want to show off in front of your precious prof, you can do it without me there, got it? I don't want to be included in your filthy fantasies."

"What are you talking about, Felix?"

"I know about your little _crush_."

"I-- that's..."

"Oh good, at least you're not denying it. Leave me out of your shit, and I won't get involved in yours."

He's about to get off of him when the idiot decides to open his mouth once more. 

"It wasn't my intention to involve you in any way!"

"Oh _yeah_?" Shifting slightly, he takes the opportunity the new angle provides him and grinds his hips against Dimitri's only to be met with a strangled gasp from him. "You want her to be doing this to you? You bottom _bitch_."

"No--"

"Oh, so you'd prefer to be on top? Good luck. With a woman like that, you could _never_."

"That's--"

"Don't even try to tell me that you're too fucking _chaste_ for this shit. Your balls _have_ dropped, haven't they? Or are you saying that you need your professor to teach you _that_ , too, _Your Highness_?"

"I-- I know how to f-fuck, Felix!"

He's almost close enough for their noses to be touching when Felix realizes that he had a far more profound effect on Dimitri than he fully realized.

"Are you _seriously_ hard right now?"

"Like you're any better." 

It's as much lip as he's gotten from Dimitri in _years_ , Felix realizing seconds later that he's _right_. 

Why the fuck is he hard? 

He pushes off of him like a man possessed, storming off before Dimitri can say anything to make Felix want to punch him in his _perfect_ fucking face. 

Why the _fuck_ was he hard?

It's not Dimitri.

It _couldn't_ have been Dimitri.

He's _attractive_ , yes, in the objective sense of the word, but Felix certainly isn't attracted _to_ him; not when all he can think about when he looks at him is the bitter taste of betrayal at having his best friend stolen from him by this-- _imposter_.

Who was evidently never the man Felix thought him to be in the first place. 

Well, then.

They were talking about Byleth, weren't they? Then, that explains it well enough.

But even that explanation leaves a bad taste in his mouth. 

After all, their professor shouldn't be having that effect on him, either. 

This is all _his_ fault, Felix decides, and finds that even that thought doesn't make his soul feel any lighter. 

&

Felix knows that he's being an exceptional ass when even _he_ realizes that he's doing it.

So far, he's managed to make Annette _literally_ alter her path upon seeing the expression on his face, Mercedes drop a dish, Ingrid attempt to offer him food (on account of his being, evidently, "hangry"), and Sylvain actually try to give him porn so he might "loosen up" a bit. 

But when he ends up snapping at Byleth in the middle of class, he knows he needs to rein it in a bit.

Not that that realization stops her from approaching him after in an attempt to engage in a conversation-- and one he really doesn't want to have right now. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

Well, at least she's giving him the option.

"No." 

"All right."

Acceptance. Just like that.

Where's the backtalk? The attempts to force him to relent? 

She makes no sense to him.

"But... we can always train... if you want to help me so badly."

"I'd like that," she says, and grabs her sword. 

In his last fight with Dimitri, he knows he didn't fight entirely fairly. But with Byleth? He already knows he _can't_ fight fairly and still have a chance at winning. 

If he fights fairly, controlled and clean, predictable and methodical, he'll lose to her automatically. 

So he meets her first swing easily, doing his best to vary his own attacks even while attempting to anticipate hers. 

Like a game of chess.

A game of chess that's turning out to be... surprisingly easy. 

He realizes by the time he's managed to back her up against a pillar that she _let him_ win.

Which is just fucking _insulting_.

"Are you _trying_ to piss me off?"

He _knows_ he shouldn't be talking to one of his teachers like this, but fuck it. He's barely holding it together as it is, and she provoked this. 

She _knew_ what she was doing, so now she gets to deal with his attitude.

"Yes."

The _audacity_.

He can imagine what she might say next, _especially_ were he to ask for clarification as she so clearly wants him to.

_I think it would be good for you if you got it out of your system._

Would it, though? 

It would be better to keep her from volunteering that helpful crap in the first place, though. 

If it were Dimitri in his place right now, would he kiss her, to shut her up? Would he kiss her, just because the opportunity presented itself? 

If this were Dimitri in Byleth's place, would Felix kiss him? Kissing him _would_ be a spectacularly easy way to get him to shut up, now that Felix is thinking about it. He wonders what it would feel like, kissing Dimitri. 

Wait-- _what_?

He realizes a moment later that he allowed his gaze to stray down to her lips for a split second and promptly pushes himself back and off of her. 

_That's_ the easiest solution. 

Just walking away.

What's _wrong_ with him?

How the fuck could he let Dimitri talk him into this shit?

Once again, he finds his steps carrying him to Dimitri's room. 

He doesn't bother to knock, just pushes the door open to a satisfyingly startled Dimitri. 

"Felix--?!"

"I know what you get up to every damn night, you freak, I can hear you through the fucking wall!"

"Felix, I don't-- I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't fool me. Maybe if you hadn't infected me with your nonsense, I could buy your whole innocent act, but I don't. Not anymore."

"Is this about the professor? Because I really don't know what you've been hearing--" 

"Do you _not_ know how to jack off, or something? Is that it? Because I'm about as sick of it as I am of your fucking face."

"What?"

"Every damn night! You moan and whimper in your sleep so convincingly that I first thought you just masturbated at all hours of the night, but then I realized, _no_ , you just wet the bed in your own special way."

Realization dawns on his features slowly but surely, his ears going red first before the color spreads onto the rest of his face. 

"I--"

"You _said_ you know how to fuck, so I'm not really sure what's stopping you. Trying to save up all your come for the professor, is that it?"

"That's highly inappropriate--"

"Did no one ever teach you how to fist your own cock? If you really can't manage, I'm sure Dedue could help, seeing as he's ready to eat your ass at any second if only you said the word."

"Now wait just one minute!"

He's standing now, just barely taller than Felix at his full height, and yet it's somehow still enough to piss him off that tiny bit more.

"What, you can only take me insulting _you_ to your face but not anyone else? However much you may hate yourself, I can guarantee you that I hate you far more."

He's been gaining ground, he realizes, Dimitri stepping back bit by bit until he hits the wall, suddenly finding himself trapped with Felix's hands flat against the wall on either side of his head. 

"Felix, I--"

"You _disgust_ me." 

The silence that stretches between them is deafening, Dimitri's gaze slowly hardening.

"If I disgust you so, why are you still here?"

Felix just stares at him. 

"Strike me already if you're going to. I know you want to. And you have every right, at that."

It's true. He does have every right, and he very badly wants to hit him. 

"Just shut up," he mutters, and leans in to kiss him instead. 

It's hard and unforgiving-- bruising, almost-- but more than that, it's _reciprocal_ , Dimitri letting out a soft groan as Felix allows his knee to slip between his legs. 

Biting down on Dimitri's lower lip, he waits to taste copper and is instead met with another moan.

" _Felix_ \--"

What the _fuck_ is he doing?

Immediately pulling back, he doesn't bother looking Dimitri in the eyes before walking back out the door. 

This is starting to become a habit. 

It _can't_. 

&

On the whole, Felix tries to overanalyze as little of his life as possible. 

This time, it doesn't work.

Had he just wanted to shut Dimitri up? It's by far the easiest answer, and it absolves him of most of the impulse involved in what he did. 

Just... most, though. 

Not to mention that he stayed far too long for it to be the sole motivation. 

Who kisses someone just to shut them up and then _keeps_ going? 

And what the fuck was wrong with Dimitri that he didn't just allow it to happen, but _participated_? 

Just how touch-starved had he been by that point?

The alternative, somehow, is worse.

That Dimitri _wanted_ to kiss him. 

That he _enjoyed_ it. 

It's not like he was moaning Felix's name out in the middle of the night, so what the _fuck_? 

_Why isn't he moaning Felix's name, anyway?_

The sauna isn't doing a great deal to help him sweat out his frustrations, but at least it's doing his body some good even while his mind is in turmoil. That, and he's alone for once, which is always nice. 

As if on cue, the door opens, Felix letting out a sigh until he catches sight of Dimitri.

 _Phenomenal_.

"Oh-- um. I-- I can leave again, if you don't want me in here." 

Looking around the empty sauna, Felix just shrugs, half-hearted, which is just about the precise opposite of how he actually feels. 

"Don't be an idiot. I'd have to be one hell of an asshole to not even tolerate your presence in the same room as me." 

Dimitri gives a small chuckle, but it sounds mostly hollow as he goes to take a seat. 

"To be fair... you did tell me that I disgusted you last time you saw me."

"You _do_ disgust me. And not just because you can't jack off."

"Did I-- last night--"

" _Yeah_ ," Felix interrupts him, rolling his eyes. "It's like you learned nothing from me yelling at you the last time."

Yeah, yelling at him. Like that was all he did. 

"I've never-- I mean, I tried once, but it just-- it seemed so wrong to think about the professor like that whilst--"

"Whilst _what_ , palming your cock? Get over yourself. You really think you're the first guy in the monastery to touch themselves while thinking about a teacher? You see how Professor Manuela dresses."

"But-- but she's different! The professor is--"

"Innocent and pure? Don't make me laugh. Like she doesn't already know you're madly in love with her."

He's not sure he's ever seen Dimitri so shocked.

"What do you mean, she _knows_?!"

"You've only made it painfully obvious to the whole school, what with your mooning all over her. Just fucking touch yourself like any regular guy and get over your delicate sensibilities, _Your Highness_. Or do you need a private lesson on how?"

"Th-that's--"

"What, you getting hard again, boar prince?"

"There's really no need to insult me just because you think it's _funny_ that I'm inexperienced. You were--"

Before he can finish, the door opens again, this time to Byleth herself. 

Dimitri moves to stand almost instantly.

"You'll have to forgive me for leaving just as you're arriving, Professor, I'm starting to feel quite warm."

It's truly a shame they're in a sauna, because judging by just how red his face is as he says it-- and how little time he's spent in here-- it's rather obvious _to Felix_ that this was a lie, but Byleth brushes it off regardless of whether or not she notices, moving to sit just a foot or two away from him. 

"It seems like there's more animosity between you two than usual," she says after a long stretch of silence once the door closes behind Dimitri.

"You must be imagining things."

She shrugs and says nothing. 

He _hates_ when she does this. As though she knows just how to get under his skin, how to get him to crack. 

It's too effective. 

He resists for a while. Glances at the door. Considers leaving, on account of having been here long enough by far. 

But that would be like admitting weakness outright without actually saying the words. And he can't have that. 

"I _just_ don't see why he has to be such a self-important prude; it drives me mad."

 _Fuck_.

"Prude?"

"Wouldn't be keeping me up if he could just admit to himself that he has needs."

"Do you admit it to yourself?"

"Of course I do."

"I see."

Once more, the conversation falls dormant, just like that. 

As though she really is satisfied knowing so little.

"Wouldn't hurt if he fought back a little, either," Felix adds without any prompting, like some kind of idiot that actually wants to share his feelings.

"While training?"

"I'll insult him to his face, and he'll just... take it. I could probably punch him and he wouldn't flinch."

Is that why he kissed him? To evoke a reaction, any reaction?

"Why do you think he does that?"

"Because he agrees with what I'm saying." 

"And that doesn't make you happy?"

"No, it doesn't." There's nothing satisfying in insulting someone maliciously, over and over, while they don't so much as lift a finger to fight back.

Did he expect Dimitri to fight him off when he kissed him? Probably.

"I'm going out," he says as he moves to stand. "I've been in here long enough."

Byleth doesn't fight him for more conversation either, and somehow that leaves just as bitter a taste in his mouth.

&

If there's one thing his experience on the battlefield has taught him, it's that no amount of training ever quite prepares one for the real thing. The movements have to be instinct, so fluid and natural that they could happen upon waking from sleep. 

It's why, out there, they fight to keep each other alive no matter what. Personal ties and grudges cease to matter. All that matters, as Byleth has taught him, is _not_ dying. 

And as much as he hates the fucker, that includes Dimitri. 

So when Felix catches sight of an arrow headed straight for him, he _reacts_. 

"Dimitri--!"

He's too late. Or-- no. 

The arrow wedges itself in his side where it might have missed him entirely had he not turned to look at Felix.

 _Fuck_.

Mercedes is already doing her best to heal him, but the guilt stays with him regardless. 

It lingers even past the end of the battle, all the way through dinner and the remainder of their evening. Where he strode with unflinching, unyielding purpose to Dimitri's door the last two times he went to see him, this time he hesitates, just staring at his wall for a long while. 

Maybe, if he waits long enough, he'll be asleep by the time he comes by.

That would be... best, he thinks. 

Besides, caring is bad for his image, particularly when it comes to Dimitri. 

So he waits.

&

It's late by the time he does finally decide to step out of his room and head nextdoor, intent on opening the door as quietly as possible. 

"I know you're a deep sleeper, you fuckface; don't you dare be awake now," he mutters, socks softening the impact of his feet upon the floor. 

Why the fuck did he come here, anyway? Just to fucking watch him sleep? To... make sure he's still alive after Felix's fuckup could have easily killed him?

Fuck. He _is_ awake. 

"Still alive, boar prince?"

"What do you care? Wouldn't you prefer it if I died?"

He didn't come here looking for a fight, but those words settle like stones in his gut, Felix scoffing as he glances back at the door. He could still leave, now. It's not too late. 

"You actually think I'm that heartless, do you?"

"You hardly make your dislike of me a secret. You're frequently openly derisive of not only me but _everything_ I evidently represent to you. You claim that the me you used to know died two years ago. I cannot deny that these things don't hurt to hear, considering the many years of friendship between us. So while I consider you far from heartless, I don't particularly think you'd miss me if I died, no. After all, according to you, I'm already dead. There wouldn't be a lot to mourn." 

He has a point. 

Felix _hates_ that, but he does have a point. The logic is sound, and it says far more about Felix than it does about His Beastliness. 

"We're not... friends."

"And I do disgust you," Dimitri adds, less helpfully than he might have assumed himself.

"... yes. But I wouldn't want you to _die_. After all, I... did... attempt... to keep that from happening today."

Except that it was his fault that he got injured in the first place. There's no way around that.

It's why he's here, as though he's hoping to... repent, somehow. 

"It's different on the battlefield, we all act on instinct. But... I'm glad that your instinct apparently thinks my life still worthy of living. Which reminds me, I never did get to thank you after I was hit. So... thank you."

"Don't fucking thank me! I'm the reason you got hit, you idiot!"

"Not-- not intentionally, surely--"

" _Of course not_ intentionally-- honestly, it's like you think I'm some kind of monster." 

How very ironic. 

"... I can't make sense of you," Dimitri says quietly, shaking his head. Not realizing, Felix supposes, that the feeling is entirely mutual. 

He can't make sense of him, either. 

"Why are you here?"

"What do you mean, _why am I here_? I had to make sure you were still alive, didn't I?"

"No, Felix, you didn't."

No, he supposes he didn't. Dimitri didn't know about his guilt until he brought it up himself. He could have just as easily gone back to his room and ignored Dimitri altogether.

Why, then, would that have felt like a betrayal? Why does the thought of Dimitri actually _dying_ grip him with such panic? 

Met with Felix's silence, Dimitri continues.

"And considering how you left last time-- not to mention how you've been avoiding me since-- I didn't think I was particularly high on the list of people you wanted to be around right now."

"I was hoping you were already asleep."

"You detest me that much? Or did you just feel too guilty to face me?"

Too guilty for what-- leaving him, or almost getting him killed?

He supposes it doesn't make much of a difference. 

"You know what-- forget it," Felix snaps, turning around to head for the door only to be stopped by Dimitri's voice.

"That was my first kiss, you know."

Well, fuck.

"So?" Turning around, he makes a great show of shrugging, shaking his head. "You're not special, boar prince."

"I never said-- what does _that_ have to do with anything?" 

Seiros help him, Dimitri actually looks _hurt_.

"It was my first…" he clears his throat, " _one_ , too." 

"And you didn't think that it would be rather rude to just storm out after that?"

"No, not particularly."

"You could really give a guy the wrong idea, doing something like that."

"Do you really think I go around kissing a lot of guys?"

"I hope not."

 _What the fuck_.

"Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know that you were even willing to in the first place?"

"I don't know, maybe the part where I moaned your name could have been a good giveaway."

"You know what," he starts, Felix walking back up to his bedside, "this is what I hate about you. You're so--"

He doesn't anticipate Dimitri reaching for the front of his shirt and pulling him close, but the next thing he knows, Dimitri is _kissing_ him, hard and insistent. It softens a moment later, the grip of his fingers around the edges of his vest echoing the sentiment, and Felix realizes that Dimitri doesn’t want to force this, wants him to have the option of a choice between pulling back and staying. 

It’s an easy enough question for him to answer, though. Where actually communicating is a genuine challenge for him at times, this is... surprisingly simple. 

Much like the physicality of training with a sword, this feels more like instinct than work.

As if in response to Dimitri’s hesitation, Felix pushes him back down on the bed and kisses him again, harder this time. If Dimitri's kiss was a challenge posed, this is his answer, unwilling to back down. 

At least-- until he feels Dimitri's hands on his shoulders, pushing him back. 

"What the _fuck_ , Dimitri."

For a split second, he looks downright _shocked_ , Felix realizing a moment later that outside of the battle, where instinct reigned above all, this is the first time he's said Dimitri's _name_ instead of just calling him _the boar prince._

But then Dimitri shakes his head and keeps talking, and just like that, it's almost as if nothing even happened.

"I'm sorry, I just-- are you sure you want this when you despise me as much as you do?"

"We don't have to talk to-- whatever this is. That's all that matters, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

"Good, glad we settled that." 

His knee slipping between Dimitri's, he grabs hold of one of his wrists to pin to the bed, Dimitri already meeting him halfway to kiss him again. For all their joint inexperience, this doesn't... _feel_ clumsy. It feels _good_ , and he's learned enough about what to do simply by paying attention to his surroundings. 

So he slips his tongue into Dimitri's mouth and draws another one of those moans out of him.

He doesn't know if this-- what they're doing here-- is a natural conclusion following on the last few weeks. All he really knows is that when he's making out with him, he doesn't hate Dimitri's dumb, symmetrical face quite as much as he's gotten used to of late. 

And when he reaches down to cup his erection, Felix finds himself downright smug over just how hard he is. 

"You're hard," he pulls back just far enough from Dimitri's face to tell him (as if he doesn't already know), only to watch as Dimitri's cheeks bloom red once more. 

"A-aren't you?" 

"Of course I am," Felix says, and kisses him again. 

His hand doesn't remain where it was, though, instead shifting up to undo the drawstring of his loungewear and slide past the waistband. 

The sharp inhale that leaves Dimitri against his lips is almost satisfying enough in its own right, but then Felix's hand finds his cock to grasp, and just like that, Dimitri's hips do the talking for him. 

"Patience," he tells him, pulling back from their kiss to sit up and draw his pants down-- just far enough that wrapping his hand around his cock is easier, no fabric to fight against. 

It allows him an overview he hadn't expected, His Highness looking far more disheveled than Felix thinks he's ever seen him. Hair in disarray, lips parted, panting-- his chest heaving, barely able to keep his hips in check with every caress Felix offers him. It's a delight to behold, and Felix is once again reminded that Dimitri doesn't masturbate. 

"That's right," he mutters, his thumb running over the head of his cock as one of Dimitri's hands fists the sheets beneath him. "I almost forgot that you had no idea how good this could be. At this rate... how long are you even going to last?"

"F-Felix--" 

"Not very long, I'm guessing? You'd better make it up to me, then, once you do finish."

Dimitri pulls his shirt up over his chest, and Felix barely resists the urge to stare. Isn't he already hard enough? Why the fuck does Dimitri have to be attractive? 

Objectively, that is. 

Fuck.

He fucks his hips up into Felix's hand for two, three more thrusts before spurting all over his fucking hand, his stomach, and his sheets, as though they haven’t already been through enough. Felix takes his time in slowing the speed of his hand to a gradual stop before grabbing hold of Dimitri's handkerchief on the end table behind his bed. 

It's his come, he can deal with the mess himself.

Sitting back against the wall, Felix props one of his feet up and waits for Dimitri to catch his breath before saying anything else. 

"Felix, that--"

"You going to repay the favor, or are you just going to watch me do all the work on myself, too?"

"Wha-- no, no, of course not, I would never--" he mutters, hastily sitting up to move between Felix's legs. 

"Don't aggravate your wound on my behalf."

"Mercedes got most of it; I'm fine, honestly."

His hands move deftly enough as they work to undo the closure of his pants, only looking up at Felix upon realizing that he's at an impasse. 

"Fine," Felix mutters, lifting his hips and sliding his pants off with no small amount of difficulty, his boots coming off alongside in the process. 

Dimitri doesn't even hesitate, just wrapping his mouth around Felix's cock without thought. 

What's he trying to do, repent? Make the countless sleepless nights up to him? 

"Less teeth," Felix hisses, and runs his fingers into Dimitri's hair for something to hold onto, his hand moving down to cup his balls, only for Dimitri to take that over, too. 

He's not even gagging despite bottoming out each and every time. It's downright astonishing, and Felix's head falls back against the wall connecting their rooms with a dull _thud_. 

_Fuck_. 

Is this why Sylvain keeps hitting on women? Is this the feeling he keeps chasing, a hot mouth wrapped around his cock? 

Masturbating feels nothing like this. 

Then again, Dimitri's hand around his balls feels better than his own hand, too, so maybe it's just the fact that it's a person other than him doing it that makes all the difference.

Well. 

If he needed actual proof of just how alive Dimitri still was, he more than has it now. 

His hand tightens in Dimitri's hair, Felix about to pull him off of him when Dimitri instead redoubles his efforts, a sharp, staggered gasp leaving him. 

"I'm close," he mutters, his hand tugging more insistently in an effort to make Dimitri come up-- but he doesn't, swallowing around the head of his cock until Felix thinks he sees stars.

There's something uncomfortable intimate about that-- Dimitri swallowing his come down without question or hesitation, just like how he decided to fucking go down on him like some kind of wild, lust-possessed beast. 

Then again... 

"Where the fuck did you learn that?" Felix rasps out, his head falling back against the wall once Dimitri resurfaces, licking his lips.

 _Of all things_. 

"... I will admit, Sylvain has a tendency to get uncomfortably graphic in the sauna. That was not all just... natural talent."

"Well then. I suppose that answers the question of whether you were lying to me about that being your first kiss."

It's not a necessary question. He already knows. He's far too honorable, the prick.

"I wouldn't lie about something like that, Felix."

"Mm."

He's already up and getting dressed again when he catches sight of the disappointment flashing in Dimitri's eyes, as though he expected them to spend the night sleeping in a single twin bed cuddled up together. 

He says nothing, and Dimitri tries to cover up the hurt in his eyes just as quickly as it arrived there. 

"... will you be back?"

"Maybe. If it'll stop you from wetting the bed and keeping me awake."

It's a great rationalization, but Felix knows he's kidding himself. It'll be nice to get to sleep through the night (if his insomnia is that kind to him), but... 

He can't deny that it felt good. 

Dimitri doesn't ask for anything after that, and Felix doesn't bother saying goodbye on his way out the door. 

&

If Felix ever truly considered the possibility of not returning for seconds (and thirds, and fourths), he was surely kidding himself.

It ends up happening every other day or so, like a practiced routine as much part of their days as classes and training. 

Dimitri still stares longingly at their professor-- and who can blame him, with all that... symmetry-- but it's fine. 

Sylvain remarks on how Dimitri is never going to get laid on account of having fallen head over heels for their professor, but it's fine. 

The professor compliments him in class and he looks happier than he has in weeks, but it's fine.

It's all fine... until it isn't.

They're in battle, and that always comes with its own set of rules... naturally. 

And when Byleth ends up almost hit by a magic attack that seems to come from out of nowhere, naturally Dimitri dives to shield her from it, the attack hitting him in the shoulder, instead. 

Felix has to resist the urge to go to him at the sight of his body on the floor, but the battle has to continue and Dimitri is back up to standing in no time, reassuring everyone that he's completely fine, that it isn't bad at all. 

And just like that, the fighting goes on, Felix throwing him the occasional glance across the ruins playing host to their battle. 

He doesn't assume Dimitri to have been lying about the state he was in, and he supposes that was his first mistake. 

His second mistake was waiting too long to go to Dimitri's room to check on him. 

The door is cracked, just barely.

Just enough that Felix can see into Dimitri's bedroom-- granting him a perfect view of Byleth sitting at his bedside. 

Where he should be sitting. 

He can't make out what they're saying, but it's obvious she's trying to help him patch up his shoulder, and for a moment, Felix feels like he's been punched in the gut. 

He should have been paying better attention, should have been more alert to the fact that _of course,_ Dimitri would lie about not getting injured trying to save his precious professor, _of course_ he'd pretend that he was just fine and could walk it off just like that. 

The fool. 

Not that the bigger fool isn't him for not realizing sooner, for not going to him before-- 

One second, the professor has her hand on Dimitri's shoulder, and the next, he's leaning in to kiss her.

Felix feels his fingernails digging into his palms, his knuckles straining against the force suddenly going into making fists instead of swinging them.

He's kissing her.

The idiot is actually fucking kissing her. 

It stops just as soon as it began, Dimitri wide-eyed and ashamed, red rapidly bleeding onto his features as he realizes what he's done. His voice rises three octaves and decibels alike, and suddenly Felix can hear him just fine.

"Oh, by the goddess, I'm _so_ sorry, Professor, I shouldn't have--"

Presumably, Byleth cuts him off and says something-- mollifying? Placating? Telling him that it's _fine_ and not to worry? Or worse, that she feels the same way he does?

He feels sick to his stomach.

Then again, maybe she doesn't tell him as much, because the next thing he knows, Dimitri is struggling and trying to get out of bed, his foot caught in the bedsheets.

 _Moron_.

"I-- I have to go!"

"But this is your room!" Byleth tells him, loud enough for him to hear as Dimitri finally finishes untangling himself. 

"Um-- keep it! I don't need it anymore!"

Felix turns around to start walking in the other direction just as Dimitri comes out the door.

"Felix!"

Oh, _fuck_ no.

He doesn't bother answering, doesn't bother turning around. 

He just keeps walking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: there is some Felileth in this chapter. Most of it is Felix being confused and/or coping badly, but yes.
> 
> Also, the timeskip happens in this chapter. Which means that we are now officially on the Pain Train.

A week later, he still hasn't sorted out his emotions-- or been able to shelve his anger, for that matter. It seems impossible to parse. 

When Felix doesn't come to Dimitri's room after the third night of silence, Dimitri actually comes to _his_ room for once. When he ends up closing the door in his face, Dimitri opts for approaching him after class, where Felix has been working overtime to try and avoid not only his gaze, but his very presence. 

"Are you by any chance free tonight?" Dimitri asks him, fast-walking to keep up with Felix on his way out of the classroom. 

"Take care of yourself for once, boar," he snaps, only for Dimitri to let out a soft, bordering on nervous chuckle. 

"Back to your old thoughts on me, I suppose?"

"No."

Far, far from it. And maybe that's precisely the problem. He's lost control of... lost _track_ of his hatred.

"Then... may I ask what's troubling you so?"

"No."

He disappears into his room after that, more than content with leaving Dimitri hanging. 

Just two days later, however, Dimitri tries again, this time in the dining hall.

While he's _fucking eating_.

He takes a seat beside him as though he was invited and looks over at him so fucking _earnestly_ that the urge to punch him comes back to the surface all over again. "Honestly, Felix, what's wrong?"

"Go fuck yourself." 

"If it's something you cannot tell me, then I invite you to at least trust someone else with the information so you might feel better. It's clearly eating you up inside."

He wishes he could laugh at that. 

"Maybe I just don't want to spend my time with a ravenously blood-hungry boar prince. Did you ever consider that?" 

Felix doesn't wait for him to respond, just picks up his food and leaves him behind. 

Dimitri's remarks remain with him for the rest of the evening and for most of the following morning. 

What the fuck _is_ eating him up inside? 

He can't be... _jealous_. He isn't one of Sylvain's jilted lovers. Or-- insulted that Dimitri would choose someone else over him. They were never exclusive-- fuck, they were never _an item_ , for that matter.

Besides, Dimitri got shot down, so there isn't even anything for him to be jealous over.

Honestly, the idiot. 

By the time he's onto his training the next day, Felix has settled on an agreeable enough answer: That he didn't appreciate being deemed... _insufficient_. But that alone is ridiculous, too. He's known from the start that Dimitri is in love with the professor. 

Why would anything have changed between then and now? They've just been fooling around. 

And it's not like he has _feelings_ for him, for that matter--

"Felix!" Dimitri's cheerful voice cuts through his thoughts like a rusty javelin, Felix gritting his teeth at the sound. "I'm glad I caught you."

"What do you want, you pest?"

"Honestly, is there a need for such vulgarity? I don't know what's changed, but I have to admit that I despise it. I-- frankly, I thought we'd gotten... closer again, over the last few weeks."

"Well, you thought wrong."

"That's-- you realize that this is rather ridiculous, don't you?"

"I'd appreciate it if you got out of my sight before I decide to turn you into my own personal training dummy."

"What has gotten into you?! I have been nothing but courteous to you since we reunited and while I understood your reticence at us being friends once more at the start, things _had_ changed! I'd accepted that you didn't wish to _talk_ or spend time with me, but that doesn't mean that we weren't connecting on a physical level--"

Felix doesn't let him finish. 

His sword hovers before Dimitri's throat so fast that most people wouldn't have been able to anticipate it, but already Dimitri's blade is unsheathed and parrying his. 

"WHAT IS YOUR _PROBLEM_?!" Dimitri shouts, seemingly having finally hit his limit with Felix's attitude. Felix can't entirely blame him there, but he can certainly try.

Their blades separate, meet, separate, and meet again. Under normal conditions, sparring would clear his head, but right now it's doing very little to aid him.

"Why don't you go and run off with your precious professor and leave me alone?"

" _That's_ what this is about?!"

Between them, steel meets steel, feet dancing so naturally that it makes duelling him feel like being reunited with a favorite blanket, long worn-out and longer forgotten.

"Don't flatter yourself, you boar."

"I've been trying to forget about that since the day it happened, Felix!"

Which doesn't mean that it didn't happen, _now does it_?

"Like you haven't been jerking off to the thought every day since."

No response. _Thought so_.

"You're already practically _drooling_ all over each other-- might as well make it official. I'm sure Sylvain has a few tips on how you could _propose_."

He has to resist the urge to spit the word.

And just like that, Dimitri steps out of range to sheath his sword, throwing Felix off more than a little.

"Clearly, I cannot make you see reason. You're terrible when you get like this, you know."

His sword-arm itches, already yearning for the sparks between them once more. "Don't talk like you know me."

"I do know you. Far too well. You convince yourself of some ridiculous notion to help you fuel your anger and nothing in the world could make you decide that things are different, as the only alternative would be actually confronting your feelings. So. I suppose you know where to find me. If, that is, I am not too repulsive to you."

Felix's grip tightening around the handle of his sword, he turns to land a particularly brutal blow to a defenseless training dummy. 

There's nothing about that fight that makes him feel like he came out the victor, and between confusion and anger, he's not sure if he has a place left to go. 

&

He supposes he's not surprised to be asked to stay after class, not after that little stunt of his. Of... theirs. He just doesn't know whether it's because Dimitri couldn't keep his big fat mouth from being a fucking _tattle-tale_ , or because Byleth is too intuitive for her own good. 

Still, he stays after class, deliberately ignoring Dimitri's gaze on him as the rest of the students slowly file out to head to dinner. 

"You wanted to see me, Professor."

Okay, so he could have maybe said that with less vitriol. Maybe.

"You seem on edge."

"Well-spotted."

"Are you upset with me because Dimitri tried to kiss me?"

That earns her actual eye contact. "How do you know about that?"

"Because I was there."

"Not--" He lets out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Not _that_. That _I_ know about it."

"I mean, I know now. Thank you for confirming it for me."

Felix could _kick_ himself. 

"Great. Glad to have cleared that up for you, Teach."

"Dimitri's been very upset."

"I'm sure he has. Getting rejected by his fantasy girlfriend must have been heartbreaking."

"I meant about _you_."

He doesn't even want to know how she knows as much as she seems to. 

"He made a decision, didn't he? I _don't_ play second fiddle."

First it was Glenn, Dimitri always fucking mooning over him. Then they were reunited, and somehow he was still comparing him to his brother. 

And now it's the professor. If she also died, Dimitri would probably start comparing him to her. 

Fucking hell. 

"I don't think he views you that way."

"I don't give a shit how he views me. I'm not any of his business, anyway."

"You say you're unaffected, but a lot of evidence proves otherwise."

He has to resist storming to the front of the classroom. Instead, he slowly uncrosses his arms, gets up out of his seat, and walks right in front of the professor. 

She's shorter than him-- though it's not by much, which is irritating all on its own. 

" _Don't_."

"You talk a big game for someone scared of losing their friend."

"What the _fuck_ does he even see in you?"

"You tell me."

Pulling back, Felix lets out a wry laugh.

"Don't _patronize_ me. Like I don't already know perfectly well. Someone who isn't angry all the time, who doesn't decide to change how they feel on a daily basis, someone who doesn't treat him like royalty _or_ like a monster. Though I'm sure it helps that you're... symmetrical."

"Symmetrical."

"... attractive, whatever. You have tits."

"Do you think it's wrong of him to appreciate those things in a role model?"

" _Role model_? Don't make me laugh. He wants to _fuck_ you, he just hasn't learned how to use his dick that way."

"Would you like me to tell you what he sees in you?"

"I have no need for wild conjectures."

"He sees someone that he can relate to on a personal level. Someone that knows him better than anyone, most likely. There's comfort in that."

"I don't want to be his nostalgia baby blanket, thanks."

"Not to mention that you're also obviously attractive, intelligent, and skilled in battle. If you were better at communicating, I'm sure plenty of people would be interested in you. The reason that Dimitri chooses to overlook your constant insults is that he can see beneath your words and recognize them for what they really are: anger masking fear, grief, confusion."

Felix grits his teeth. 

She's not wrong, and that's part of the problem.

Why has she been paying so much attention to him, anyway?

All the same, he almost can't fault Dimitri. It isn't just that she's... symmetrical. Or that she's skilled in battle, fiercely good at staying alive, and a good instructor. 

It's that she's _confident_. 

The other things help, but-- when he looks at her, all he can see is the best parts of himself reflected back at him. What he wants to be, what he wishes he could be-- someone rational, someone to _respect_.

Felix talks and acts a good game, but he knows that if someone like Byleth, who does more than just play the part, looks at him too closely, all they see is hot air and insecurities. 

_That's_ why it's Byleth's name on Dimitri's tongue, Byleth's face in his dreams. 

"You have a lot of nerve," he says slowly.

"You should be more honest with yourself," she tells him.

And he is. ( _Isn't he?_ )

He kisses her briefly and on impulse, not remotely surprised to find her pushing him away after only a few short moments.

" _Felix--_ " 

He doesn't wait to hear what else she has to say-- instead, he just grabs his things and leaves, more conflicted, perhaps, than even before.

&

He doesn't get asked to dance for the Heron Cup, which is a good thing, not only because he thinks it to be a ridiculous time to be throwing a ball and having a dance-off, but also because Felix already knows that dance moves are the absolute last thing on his mind.

It _had_ seemed like such a foolproof idea, kissing the professor. Going over it in his head after the fact, he'd practically had a checklist of benefits to be derived from doing so:

  * Getting back at Dimitri
  * Adding a second person to his have-kissed list, because he refuses to be outdone by Dimitri
  * Dislodging Dimitri from his head, where he'd appeared to have made a permanent home
  * Knowing what the big deal is 



The only real outcome, however, has been that now he can't stop thinking about everything Dimitri sees in Byleth-- and how he has all the reason in the world to choose her over him. 

Kissing her was... upsettingly nice. Different from kissing Dimitri, but no less enjoyable by far. Softer, certainly.

Where, before, he was jealous of Byleth for being on the receiving end of Dimitri's lovesick glances in class and while training, now that jealousy seems to have reached a fever pitch, with him unable to stop fixating on every last one of their interactions. 

The thought of their training together, having tea, and having dinner make him feel just short of sick to his stomach.

It's absurd. Everything about it is absolutely absurd. After all, the professor isn't even interested in Dimitri, and yet, here he is, the dumbest bitch in all of Fódlan.

That, perhaps, makes it a worse time to hold a ball. 

Death Knight and betrayal aside, that is. 

And still, here he is, feeling absolutely ridiculous for his presence alone. 

It's expected of him, of course. And people are going to want to dance with him, if only on account of, first, decorum, and second, the fact that he just so happens to be annoyingly good at dancing. 

Couldn't best his brother in battle, but he probably could have danced circles around him. Absolutely hysterical, that.

Naturally, His Royal Highness Prince Dimitri is out on the dance floor to open the ball, Felix feeling an astonishing amount of resentment towards the girl he's dancing with. 

Like he'd want to dance with him in the first place. 

"He's looking very handsome, isn't he?" Byleth asks him, having somehow managed to sidle up to him while he was busy brooding. 

"I hadn't noticed."

"That must have taken a lot of effort."

"Not particularly," he grits out, wishing she wasn't so fucking astute. He really does look good tonight, but that doesn't mean much. He looks despicably good every night. Every day, every battle--

Turning to look at her, desperate for something else to focus on, Felix turns to look at her, holding his hand out.

"I can think of far worse women to waltz with. Would you do me the honor?"

She seems to consider it for a long moment before finally allowing herself to nod. "I would."

It really is about time for Dimitri to feel jealous, he thinks. That, and-- for a mercenary, Byleth isn't half bad with her feet, either. It's nice. 

What's decidedly less nice is that he's back in his own head all over again-- how many times Dimitri must have fantasized about this, dreamt about it, wished to find himself in this position...

She smells nice. It's a decided change from her usual, which is smelling like a mercenary-- like metal and oil and a bit of sweat, something he should not find _more_ attractive but absolutely does-- which means that she's washed prior to this, maybe even put on perfume. It is different, but there's something appreciable to be found in that, too. 

He tries not to let himself focus on the mental image of her in the bath. How many times must that have been the focus of one of Dimitri's wet dreams?

"You smell nice," he says, and wishes he could knee himself in the balls for opening his big damn mouth.

"What was that?"

"I said _you have lice_." Well done, Felix. Extraordinary. 

"Thank you for the compliment, Felix."

She's smiling, the expression bordering on smug. 

_Of course_ she heard him the first time, the _brat_. Frankly, he's not sure he remembers the last time he ended up quite this red.

The song comes to a close far too fast, Dimitri tapping on his shoulder and offering him a small smile. 

"Would you mind if I cut in?" 

Oh, he'd mind. 

He would absolutely fucking mind. 

"... of course not. By all means." 

Watch the person he can't get out of his damn head share a romantic waltz with the love of his life while they stare longingly at one another?

No, thanks. 

He'd rather die. 

Instead, he decides to head out, claiming to be in need of " _some fresh air_ " when Mercedes asks him if he's feeling all right. But after walking past three different couples making out in the courtyard, he decides that he's had more than enough of that and turns back around. 

He'll wait it out in the Goddess Tower. 

No one should disturb him there.

&

Unfortunately for him, the peace doesn't last long, Felix groaning the second he hears footsteps coming up the stairs. 

"I swear to Sothis, whatever happened to getting a fucking room?" he calls out, only to see Dimitri's face pop up and into view.

"Felix?" 

Ah, shit. 

"... I'm surprised the professor isn't with you."

"Oh, please. Of course not. Don't be silly."

 _Didn't seem that unlikely to me_. But he doesn't say anything, and Dimitri continues talking. 

"Frankly, I needed to take a breather. It was getting to be a bit much."

"Everyone want to dance with the handsome prince?"

"Well, one of the few people I actually _wanted_ to dance with didn't seem so inclined."

"I can't imagine who you might be talking about."

"Of course you can."

"I wouldn't have let you lead."

"That would have been just fine by me."

"Tch." He resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead turning to look away-- anywhere other than at Dimitri. Something in his chest aches, and he pushes the feeling aside.

"May I join you?"

Always so fucking _polite_.

"You're welcome to sit wherever you want."

Dimitri settles beside him without question, Felix letting out a low exhale. 

"Why did you leave?" Dimitri asks, apparently unable to keep his mouth shut for all of five seconds.

"All those stuffy displays of pomp and circumstance were never my thing. You know that."

"I don't suppose you'd allow me to waltz with you here. If we listen closely, we can still hear the music."

_I'd like that._

" _Seiros_ , no."

"I'm sorry I angered you, you know. That day."

"It's fine, I already got even."

"What does--" Dimitri starts, the sound of fresh steps upon the stairs cutting him off. "P-Professor--" 

Dimitri is on his feet in a second, Felix not bothering to move from where he's seated as Byleth looks between the two of them. 

"... are you two here for each other?" 

"What are you talking about?"

"I think she's talking about the legend," Dimitri says, Byleth nodding. 

_Fuck_. How could he forget? Before long, this place would be _overrun_ by people hoping to fall in love at first sight.

"Of course not," Felix mutters, moving to stand himself. "We were just talking. Though I'm sure Dimitri was hoping to run into you up here."

"That's--"

"It must be nice to be young and in love," Byleth says, looking at the two of them with a small smile. Felix wonders what about her _isn't_ young, but doesn't say anything. "I'll leave you two be." 

The last thing he needs, to be left alone with a lovesick fool who sees him as a backup to the woman he really wants.

Felix could retch.

"Professor, wait! It's not what you think--"

She leaves despite Dimitri's imploring her to stay, his insistence that there's evidently nothing going on between them, and Felix can't even muster up the energy to be jealous anymore. It's like a bad joke, really. He spent so long doing everything in his power to avoid love and romance, and here he is, made a fool by both.

"It really isn't your night, huh? If I hadn't been here, you two could have wished to be together forever."

"Felix..."

"I'm going to bed; your face is starting to make me angry. Do me a favor and don't follow me."

He wouldn't have known what to wish for, anyway, had he stayed. 

Not anymore.

&

Things change, after that. Enough to force all of them to grow up a bit faster than they might have otherwise. 

Jeralt dies, pitching the monastery into mourning. Byleth becomes the Enlightened One, and somehow, life goes on regardless. They keep going to classes, keep training, and keep fighting the enemy.

Until Edelgard betrays them, and Dimitri loses his mind. 

A part of him had genuinely thought-- no, _hoped--_ that his old friend had returned to him. But the sight of the same Dimitri that he'd tried to forget for two years-- twisted smile, bloodlust on display for all to see-- shatters something within him. 

The events of the Heron Ball and his stupid feelings never felt so far away as in that moment.

He acts cocky about it, ignores the shock on Byleth's face, and does everything he can to close his heart off from it all.

He's always been good at erecting walls. It's about time they be good for something, really.

The only problem is that, while they are excellent at keeping other people out, it does keep all the feelings trapped inside for him to stew over. No one to share them with, no one to vent them on. 

Where Dimitri ceaselessly dwells in the past, Felix has always looked to the future, oftentimes to his detriment. It's always been a matter of waiting for the next battle, the next chance to prove himself. His chance for contentment, an end to the endless restlessness-- it could always be just around the next bend.

If the war ended, would he lose his purpose? His will to even care about the next bend, the next chance at contentment, however temporary?

Luckily for him, it doesn't. 

Instead, they lose their professor, and everything changes.

Byleth has _died_ before, and lived to see the day, her hair and eyes different, sure, but-- alive. So when Byleth does die, Felix doesn't believe it at first. 

Dimitri says she fell into a ravine, but there's no body to be found among the rubble, and he doesn't _want_ it to be true.

After a week of searching, of no return, he starts to feel his resolve slipping. A part of him feels bad for ever having thought that Dimitri could replace her with Felix if she died, because he doesn’t. 

Instead, he withers away. 

And Felix, acting like a coward, can't fucking stand to watch it happen. 

So he leaves to go fight battles he knows he can win.

&

Five years later, it's Sylvain and Ingrid that end up reminding him of their promise. That they would all return to Garreg Mach for a reunion. As war-torn as Faerghus is, Edelgard pushing ever further east, he knows that their best chance at actually building up a resistance strong enough to stop her would be to unite with everyone and strategize, just as they once did. 

What he doesn't expect is to find not only Dimitri alive and... unwell, but _Byleth_. 

Alive, looking no different than she did when they last saw her. 

Taking down thieves together, reuniting with their old teachers and faculty, coming up with a joint battleplan-- it feels almost as if he never left. 

The only difference he can't ignore is the veritable specter of Dimitri, a hollow shell of the man he once knew. 

There's no bloodlust in his one remaining eye, not anymore. It's like they're dead inside, though he's sure it doesn't help that it looks like he hasn't slept once over the last five years.

He can barely stand to look at him.

It doesn't take long for him to try, though.

Insomnia has long fueled his walks, and tonight is no different, the old grounds feeling as familiar as if he had never left. Even the evidence of the damage done to the monastery won't remain long, he knows, not with the cleanup efforts organized by Sylvain and Annette.

It's how he ends up coming across Dimitri, sullenly staring at the chunks taken out of their old training hall.

"You look like shit," he tells him, as if he's hoping to break the ice.

"I don't see why it should matter."

"How long have you been living here? We thought you-- _I_ thought you were dead."

He knows his words are tinged with hurt, but he doesn't care. It did hurt. _Does_ hurt. He's already not saying half the things he could. 

_I searched for you, every second I could spare. I could never forgive myself for leaving you behind._

"I'm not the Dimitri you once knew. I am merely a vessel for revenge."

"Hollow on the fucking inside." Felix almost wishes he could bring himself to want to beat him up. Unfortunately, it looks like life already did a fine enough job of it. He's a shadow of his former self, and even that's being generous. "I see you're pointless to talk to."

"Do whatever you want." 

He strides back out of the training hall at a loss. 

There would have been anger there in the past, he knows, blistering hot and impossible to contain. He would have felt bitter and angry long before he ever would have allowed himself to feel _hurt_.

And while he supposes he is angry, more than anything else, he's angry at himself. It does hurt, but only because he saw this coming and did nothing to stop it. 

Seeing Dimitri again, he'd expected him to have turned into the bloodthirsty boar he'd seen for a second time all those years ago. 

Instead what met him was a mirror: Dimitri, angry, tired, and filled with self-hatred, guilt over all those lost over the years.

Pushing away everyone around him because trusting _anyone_ else is far more terrifying than death, his hatred the only front he has to help protect him.

Felix... understands all of that. 

He just wishes he didn't. 

Not only because he misjudged him for years, isolated him for years, but because he feels partially responsible. Maybe if he hadn't left, maybe if he'd ever learned to pay attention to anyone else's feelings, maybe--

"Felix."

He realizes that he's walked all the way to the docks when he hears the professor's voice behind him-- no, _Byleth's_ voice. 

"Byleth," he says, not bothering to turn around.

She comes to stand beside him where he's looking out over the pond-- but, as usual, says nothing. 

He's always hated that she has this effect on him, making him want to fill the silence. 

"Did he talk to you?" 

She shakes her head. "No."

"Mm." Then, after a moment, he adds, "Guess it's just us, then."

"I always thought it would be you two," she tells him quietly, Felix blinking at her.

"What?"

"Together."

He scoffs. "He was in love with you, not me."

"No, he put me on a pedestal."

"No offense, but you're, like, part deity. I'd be surprised if everyone at school _didn't_ put you on a pedestal."

"You didn't."

"No, but... nevermind."

_But I understood why he did._

"Tell me."

"You're strong. Respectable." _Symmetrical_. "Women like you don't grow on trees, you know."

"You seemed very angry at Dimitri for his feelings."

"I was angry about a lot of things back then."

"But him especially."

"That doesn't mean--" He sighs. " _Look_. I'm over it. He's... not the same Dimitri anymore. It's more like looking in the mirror now."

"Do you miss him?"

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then, there you go. You've got your answer."

She sighs, and he feels the weight of the world on her shoulders.

&

He pays more attention to her after that night, sees how hard she works and how little she allows herself to rest, and it occurs to him that she has no one. 

She has _everyone_ , yes, but-- no one by her side for her to lean on. She's their leader, and rightly so, but... 

If he was in his right mind, Felix knows that she'd be leaning on Dimitri, that they'd hold each other up in their quest to retake Faerghus. As it is, however, she's doing all of the work Dimitri can't, which just so happens to be... most of the work. Dimitri can kill, but he can't think straight, and that affects all of them.

He wants to help. Where he couldn't aid Dimitri when he took on the world, he at least wants to be able to help Byleth weather the storm in his own small way off the battlefield. 

He can't watch her die a third time. He _won't_. 

He knows that she isn't like him, that she _can_ sleep if she wants to instead of just tossing and turning all hours of the night. Which just makes it all the more obvious when her lack of sleep is an active choice, the light in the library on for the third night in a row. 

He slips inside soundlessly enough, though he knows that if she weren't as tired as she most likely is, she'd have heard him regardless. 

"I realize you probably need less sleep than most people," he says quietly, Byleth starting in surprise as she turns to see him cross the room, "but even _you_ need sleep."

She looks lovely bathed in the glow of the candle she has set before her, though he's not sure there's anything that could compel him to admit as much out loud. He considers touching her shoulder, and then doesn't. 

"I'm fine," she lies, Felix sighing in irritation.

"What is it going to take for you to let someone help you?"

"I'm fine," she says again, softer this time.

"If you seriously think I'm going to put up with you ending up dead _again_ because you're too stubborn to accept help, then you have another thing coming."

"Felix..."

"You said before that I didn't put you on a pedestal. Well, I'm not putting you on a pedestal now. We go out into battle, and if one of us is too tired to pay attention to the enemy, they will _die_. I don't care if you can come back in a month, a year, five years-- I'm not putting up with it. "

She turns as she stands, leaning her body against the edge of the table she's been working at. 

"Just don't make me write missives. Anything else, I can probably help with." 

"Is there a reason you're so concerned for me?"

"Obviously. Without you, we fell apart and Dimitri became... Dimitri. I'm not watching that happen again. We need you too much."

 _He needs you too much_ is what he wants to say, but doesn't.

After all, he knows it's just as selfish as it is selfless. He's already lost Dimitri. He can't lose her, too. 

"Is that the only reason?"

"Of course it is."

"Well, in that case... there is _one_ thing you could help me with."

"Name it. Particularly if it will make you go the fuck to sleep."

She pulls him into a kiss by the front of his shirt before he can so much as process what's happening.

Wait-- _what?_

_Why?_

More importantly, why _him_?

Then again, he offered to help. He just didn't expect her to need _this_ kind of help, though in hindsight it makes sense. She's tense, overworked and trapped in her own head, evidently so much so that she can't even consider the prospect of sleep. That's something he understands, and all too well. 

Is this how she unwinds? How she used to unwind before she came to Garreg Mach?

He considers Dimitri, considers the bloom of jealousy he used to feel in his bone marrow, his chest and his gut, spreading like a disease and threatening to overwhelm.

What would Dimitri say, if he saw them now?

Would he care? 

Would it do to him what it used to do to Felix?

She kisses like a mercenary, he realizes absently, unwilling to take prisoners in her quest to get precisely what she wants-- and suddenly she's up on the table with him between her legs, Felix unable to remember who even put her there in the first place.

She's so, so warm, so _alive_ that it astonishes him for a moment, his fingers finding the curve of her ass to dig into. He hopes he leaves bruises that only she knows about, his free hand finding her breast to cup through her shirt, jarringly different from how it felt to touch Dimitri. 

Fuck if he knows how to take that thing off without tearing.

 _Though he would very much like to tear_.

She seems to notice the impulse, Byleth pulling away to tug down her under... things... instead.

"There's time for later," she tells him, and he understands what she means-- her bedroom is private while the library could see anyone entering at any point. Strange, that he'll get to fuck a girl before seeing a pair of tits, but he's hardly in any position to be picky.

And... this _is_ what she wanted help with.

So he kisses her again, harder this time, pretending for a second that he knows remotely what he's doing beyond what he's unwillingly heard from Sylvain, and pulls out his cock from beneath his tunic. 

She seems to trust him, at least, Felix feeling Byleth's legs wrap around him as he pulls back from their kiss and starts to push inside of her. 

_Fuck_. 

He thinks about Dimitri and what it felt like to have his cock in his mouth, the way he'd do anything to try and make Felix feel good, and forces the thought away. 

_Not now_.

He thinks about Dimitri, and how many times he must have wished for this, fantasized over this, and pushes that thought away, too. 

_Not now not now not now--_

His tongue ends up between his teeth to keep him from making any noise, but even he can't stop himself from gasping once he's fully sheathed inside of her. 

_If it was Dimitri--_

" _Fuck me_ ," she hisses through her teeth, her fingers moving between her legs-- not to adjust his cock, but to touch... herself? Sylvain never talked about this, _fuck_.

Still, he decides that he can always try it out for himself later. For now, he has instructions to follow. 

Wrapping his hand around the top of her thigh for leverage, he keeps his thrusts shallow and slow to start, only gaining speed and pulling out further the more intuitive it starts to feel. 

It comes to him much faster than he'd have expected, Byleth uttering "you're a _natural_ ," as though they're back in the classroom all over again. 

He ducks his head to cover up his blush, and thrusts into her as hard and as deep as he can go. 

What would it would be like to fuck Dimitri like this, he wonders, to _fuck himself on Dimitri's cock_ like this, and has to fight to hold it together.

He'd get the most wonderful expression when he was about to come-- would he look like that again, if he was inside Felix? Would he look different? What has changed? How many more scars litter him now--

_Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri--_

It's all fine until she's _clenching_ around him like her body wants to keep him buried inside her forever, and he comes before he can stop himself, hips stuttering as he pulls back from her to gasp. 

" _Fuck_ ," he lets out louder than he probably should have, glancing down between them, reality rushing back to him. "That wasn't meant to be over that soon."

"It was my fault, I should have warned you that I was about to come."

_That's a thing that can happen?_

"Hm? Oh, well. I'm glad for that, I guess." He feels impossibly disoriented. Is this what Dimitri feels like all the time, his head buried in thoughts of the past? Like he was fucking a ghost-- a Dimitri that no longer exists. He needs to focus. "Hey, uh-- what were you doing with your fingers, anyway?" 

Byleth just smiles, already pulling her underwear back on. "Come back to my room with me, and I'll show you."

"And after that, you'll sleep?"

She considers it for a long moment before finally nodding. "Deal."

&

He gets better at sex, after that. Byleth teaches him enough that he can direct the action entirely himself, something Byleth seems to appreciate considering her role at the monastery and the myriad stressors that come with it. And, well, Felix enjoys the role. 

He also learns how to make her come, something he enjoys just as much. Considering how hard it can be to make her emote, she is shockingly expressive in bed. Granted, it does tell him that his first time with her must have been a rather sorry affair all things considered, but considering his marked improvement over such a short span of time, he can't be entirely too upset about it.

Especially when Felix finds that he sleeps better after sex and with a warm body beside him. And, well, Byleth is _willing_ to sleep after sex. 

She also just so happens to have a ravenous appetite, Felix realizing fairly quickly that it and her experience add up to something his jealous side doesn't particularly care for, so he doesn't bring it up. Everything about her has _mercenary_ written all over it-- it would make sense that she'd fuck like one, too, like she could die tomorrow. 

It's not his issue. After all, they don't really talk during sex. Before and after, sure. She knows she can rely on him if she needs to. But he knows it's not what she needs most these days. She needs something to help her let go and forget about her stressors. 

And he appreciates that they don't talk about the way he feels-- about how badly he misses his old friend and how utterly irreplaceable he is no matter how hard Felix tries to cover it all up with sex. 

Sylvain must have been absolutely starving for an emotional connection to have been fucking that many women. 

Thankfully, his feelings for Dimitri are an unspoken thing, not entirely unlike how it used to be between them. Then again, Felix isn't sure Dimitri ever caught onto any of that. It's a blessing now, his utterly oblivious nature; if he found out about him and Byleth fucking, Felix thinks he might actually lose it for good. 

Then again... he's not entirely sure that he _hasn't_ just lost it for good.

&

The Ambush at Ailell is hard on all of them. The craters are a bitch and a half to avoid, too, but the _heat--_ he thought the sauna was hot, but this is a dry, punishing heat, hot enough that he knows his movements are impeded as a result of it.

He's taking down an enemy soldier when he hears Byleth's voice from behind him. 

"Felix, watch out!"

He turns to look at the threat only for him to be pushed out of the way, his ass hitting the ground and _Dimitri_ taking the blow meant for him. 

He wants to yell at him, wants to call him any number of things-- but instead he clambers back up and rejoins the battle. He's sore but not _dead_ and neither is Dimitri, and while that _is_ the only thing that should matter, he can't help his anger. 

And then, as if things weren't shit enough already, his father shows up.

It's a long enough journey from Ailell back to Garreg Mach that they end up setting up camp once night falls, Felix biding his time until most of the soldiers have settled in for good. Byleth keeps sending him the occasional glance out of the corner of her eye-- he can tell she knows that there's something wrong, that he's _beyond_ pissed, but he doesn't volunteer any of it and she doesn't ask, something he's honestly grateful for. 

The strategy tent is filled with people until Gilbert and his father finally retire for the night, but he _knows_ that Dimitri is still awake, that his demons keep him up at all hours. 

Those dark circles under his eyes have to come from somewhere, after all.

He doesn't bother announcing himself as he steps inside the tent, Dimitri looking up from the map. 

"How _dare_ you."

"What are you doing here?"

"It's not enough that your _dog_ steps in to save my fucking life all the time, now you have to throw yours away as well? You talk a good fucking game about how you don't care about _anything_ , but what is it about your fucking _revenge_ that says that _I_ have to stay alive, huh? Because I'm really fucking tired of you LYING TO MY FACE!"

"Get out!"

" _Make me_ , you _liar_."

"You don't know _anything_ about me."

"I know _everything_ about you. I know you better than anyone, you fool! What's the point of all of this if you die, huh?! Who will lead us in the fight against Edelgard? Who will take the throne as the rightful King of Faerghus? What are _any_ of us fighting for if you die?!"

He doesn't realize how far he's advanced on him until Dimitri hits the back of the table, Felix's fingers buried in the thick fur of his cape.

"How _dare_ you devalue your life so easily. I don't give a shit how you have to do it, but keep yourself fucking alive! Or do Dedue's sacrifices mean nothing to you?"

"Of course not."

"Don't keep yourself alive for yourself, _fine_ , I don't give a shit. But find _some_ reason, some fucking motivation to not wither away and _die_ , on _or_ off the battlefield. You know, my father has some pretty shit ideas, but he was right about one thing. This country deserves a king who doesn't care more about corpses than he does his living subjects, who actually has some fucking self-respect, someone I can be proud of to lead _me_ when all this is over."

"Felix--"

"Don't you _dare_ assume that all of this is on your shoulders and your shoulders alone! Byleth has been working herself to the bone just trying to support you from the sidelines when all you seem to be able to do is brood and figure out how best to avenge the fallen. Well, I've got some fucking news for you-- they're dead! They don't _give_ a shit!"

"Felix!"

He clears his throat, unfurls his tensed fingers from the fur of the cape, and steps back. 

"Yeah, I'm done. I'm tired of talking to a self-proclaimed _walking corpse_." 

He turns to leave the tent when something grabs the back of his cape. His hand moves to the hilt of his sword, but he already knows-- if he thought it was anyone but Dimitri behind him, his sword would already have long been unsheathed and at their throat. 

"Felix."

" _What_."

"Wait."

"I waited five years. I _mourned_ for you-- _wept_ for you! I'm done waiting."

For a long moment, silence reigns between them.

"You're right. I don't deserve even a second of your time."

"What the _fuck_ are you on about?"

"I can't have you haunt me, too." It's barely loud enough for Felix to hear, but he does.

He almost wishes he didn't.

"Tch. How very selfish and noble of you."

Dimitri doesn't keep him from leaving that time, which he decides is a good thing. He doesn't want to punch his friend, but he fucking _will_ if pushed, and he's entirely out of patience. 

"Felix."

He's beyond tightly wound, but Byleth-- logical and predictable-- is a sight for sore eyes, and he feels himself relax he turns to look at her. 

"You go talk to him. He might even listen to you."

He watches her disappear inside the tent, but doesn't bother trying to do more than that. He doesn't want to know what happens in there, doesn't want to play witness to Byleth managing to get through to him when even his oldest friend couldn't. 

He feels impossibly tired. 

_You broke him, left him when he needed you most. It's_ your _fault_. 

Call a man a monster for too long, and he'll become one. 

He goes back to his tent, but he doesn't sleep, doesn't even try to. Instead, he sits with his demons and wishes they were as obvious to those around him as Dimitri's are.

Or that someone cared. 

But he's an asshole, and he's always been an asshole, and no amount of trying can fix _that_. 

So he doesn't bother.


	3. Chapter 3

It happens like clockwork from there on. 

Dimitri calls a meeting, apologizes to everyone, and looks half-alive for once. 

For the first time in a long time, really. 

And just like that, Felix knows that whatever the fuck Byleth did must have worked where his efforts did nothing. 

The sex stops, after that. 

With Dimitri finally seeing reason again, they can finally get to work in earnest-- and off the battlefield, Felix isn't needed anymore. 

They're doing just fine on their own.

His father almost dies, too-- protecting _His Highness_ , no less, but that's almost a boon as far as Felix is concerned. Going home to recover means that he's out of their hair, out of Felix's hair, and he's grateful for at least that much.

All the same, his insomnia walks are back, and he'd be lying if he said that he'd missed them. He absolutely didn't. 

He likes them even less when they show him things he was never meant to see. 

The Goddess Tower doesn't hold a lot of pleasant memories for him, but it's quiet and private and the view is fairly decent. 

His steps only slow when he hears voices, Felix stepping softly as he makes his way up just far enough to see who it is without being spotted. 

It's a mistake. 

She's in his lap, cradling his head against her chest, which could have been innocent enough had Dimitri not looked up at her, their faces impossibly close. 

It's like watching the same scene from five years ago, except that this time, he doesn't wait to see what happens, can't stand to. It almost looks like this isn't the first time that this has happened, but the thought makes him feel sick, and he doesn't dwell on it, on how long it's been going on behind his back. Which is a laughable thought all in its own right, that either of them ever needed his permission to fall in love and find their happily ever after.

His steps are near-silent as he goes back down the stairs.

A part of him always knew it was just a matter of time. He was the primer for both of them, he supposes, Byleth just biding her time until Dimitri came back to his senses. 

As much as he's been turned into a stand-in for his brother by all too many, Felix also knows just as well that, at the end of the day, he's replaceable. 

When did he lose sight of his personal codes of conduct? _Don't get attached, don't ever open yourself up to pain and hurt and rejection, push others away before they get too close_. 

That would have stopped him from ever feeling like this-- rejected, forgotten, and sidelined. 

&

He doesn't talk to either of them for a long while after that. 

Battle was one thing-- communication was needed there, even if it was minimal communication, but... the war is over now. They've won, and he's supposed to be happy about it-- and, in a certain way, he supposes that he is. 

Byleth approaches him on more than one occasion-- or tries to, anyway-- but he rebuffs her, and even he can't blame her for giving up after a while. 

He knows they're fucking. They _must_ be. He's not even sure he cares-- it's been so long since he was even remotely involved with either of them that he _shouldn't_ care anymore. And besides, Dimitri was in love with Byleth even back then; it wouldn't surprise him if Felix had played the part of a stand-in for him. 

But he knows he's kidding himself, knows all too well that he cares, and far too much. Even Sylvain has caught onto the fact that there's something wrong with him beyond just his usual piss-poor attitude about life. 

Has she told him, he wonders? Does Dimitri know that they used to fuck? Even if she spent all their time together picturing Dimitri instead of Felix, he doubts _His Highness_ would be pleased.

Then again, Felix was picturing Dimitri, too. So he supposes he wouldn't be able to blame her, anyway.

"Train with me," Dimitri says, all smiles as he nods at Felix's attempts to slaughter a training dummy as though it were his feelings. "Seems like you could use someone to work out your aggression on."

"You really want that to be you, boar prince?" he snaps, grip tightening on his sword as he turns to face his opponent. 

"It's been a while since you called me that. You really _must_ be frustrated."

" _Well-fucking-spotted_ ," he grinds out, and meets Dimitri's blade mid-swing. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I want a lot of things, but _talking_ isn't one of them."

He's fairly certain that Byleth and Dimitri are the only people who could possibly manage to have a casual conversation with him in the middle of duelling.

"I don't understand-- why you people can't just leave me alone!" he adds, his footwork serving to force Dimitri to parry his strikes.

"Byleth is worried about you-- _I'm_ worried about you."

"You have a lot of fucking nerve, _boar_."

"If there's something you're not telling me--"

"I think there are a lot of things our dear _professor_ isn't telling you."

"What are you saying?"

"Do you have _any_ idea how long I stood by her side-- while you accepted _none_ of the help offered to you? Do you know-- how hard I fought-- or what I fought _for_? Because it certainly wasn't-- so that I could get _sidelined--_ like I have been my entire life!"

"Felix--"

His onslaught is relentless, Felix only slowing once he has Dimitri up against a pillar and his blade at his throat. 

"How _dare_ you! How dare you get better only to cast me aside! As if I wasn't just as invested as she was-- I _loved_ you and you threw that away for petty revenge and then wonder why I'm not standing on the other side with a smile on my face?!"

Dimitri doesn't say anything. Instead, he reaches up a gloved hand to wrap around Felix's blade and slowly forces it away from him. 

Effortlessly, the edge cuts through the leather and into his hand, Felix watching thin rivulets of blood coursing down along the steel. 

He never thought it would be Dimitri's blood on his blade, and he feels ill.

"The reason you didn't see how deeply I cared for you is because you didn't _want to_ , Felix," Dimitri tells him, voice steady as Felix lowers his blade, his hand trembling from everything he's holding inside. 

No-- not just his hand. _He's_ trembling. 

His blade clatters to the floor.

"I can only imagine that it came from a place of fear. I cannot blame you for that. I, too, would have been afraid to love one such as myself."

"Don't you start with that, you filthy--"

"You were _right to_ , Felix. I was so caught up in my guilt and my torment that I could barely think of anyone other than myself-- the person you and I both knew me to be."

"You--"

"And I do care about her. She accepts me as I am, hands stained red with the blood of so many I have slaughtered, so many I have left behind in the wake of my selfishness. But you-- Felix, never in my wildest dreams did I ever think you would. After all, you were the one who couldn't stand to look at me without wishing to retch"

"That's--"

"Can _you_ accept me, monster as I am? Can you stand there and tell me that you love me despite the path of death I've carved into this world?"

"You always were a damn fool--"

Felix kisses him before he can spout any more nonsense, Dimitri returning the kiss so easily it's almost as if they truly never stopped. Even through the glove, Felix can tell that his hand has yet to stop bleeding, but he knows that it's his blood as much as it is Dimitri's-- that the fault for the slaughter lies in his hands, as well. 

So when he pulls back from their kiss, it's only to tug off the glove and run his thumb along the cut, Dimitri hissing faintly.

How appropriate that it, too, should have been caused by him and his fear.

"If your hands are stained red, mine are just as badly. So fucking allow me to share your burdens, you selfish bastard."

This time it's Dimitri that kisses him, but it's-- different. There's more desperation than anger, Dimitri's hand cupping his face as he feels _himself_ hit the back of the pillar. His arms wrap around him easily, Felix refusing even for a second to allow his escape, no matter how much fucking taller than him he is. 

The training hall is far from the right place to fuck, but he nevertheless allows one hand to slide down between their bodies to find Dimitri hard-- and somehow noticeably _bigger_ than the last time they were intimate.

"You fucking bastard," he mutters against Dimitri's lips, and bites down on his bottom lip. 

"We-- we can't keep doing this here," Dimitri manages upon recapturing his lip. "Not if--"

"Yeah," Felix mutters, not bothering to wipe Dimitri's blood off of his face as he turns to head back out of the training grounds. It's not a far walk back to Dimitri's room, something he's grateful for, though he's not sure he really gives a shit about who sees them, not now.

He has Dimitri backed up against his door the second it closes behind them, their kisses messy and hard, Felix's hand in his hair in the hopes of eliciting a groan.

It works, and Felix rewards him by pulling back with a nod. "I don't fuckin know how to undress you. Get to it."

Not that he's about to make Dimitri struggle with his clothes, either, Felix suddenly wishing his outfit had fewer buckles. 

"Get on the bed," he orders, tugging off the last of his clothes. 

His cock is in his hand by the time he climbs up onto the bed himself, glad to see Dimitri complying so readily, Felix sitting back on his knees as he surveys the display before him. 

Fuck, his dick really _did_ get bigger. _Asshole_. 

"What do you want me to do?"

"My king asking me what _I_ want him to do... you sure that's something you want?"

"Yes."

He tries to pretend that's not satisfying as all hell, Felix allowing a small smile to come over his features-- likely the first Dimitri has seen in years. 

Strange, that it should be under these circumstances, not that Felix is about to complain.

"I want you to eat my ass."

"Wh-- _what_?"

"I mean that quite literally. Eat my ass, _Your Highness_."

He turns around, bending slightly at the waist as he balances himself against the wall and reaches back to spread himself.

It's enough, a shuddered exhale leaving him as he feels Dimitri grab hold of his thighs, his tongue pushing into his ass. 

Almost instantly, his hand moves to grab hold of Dimitri's hair instead, tugging him closer and urging him on with a groan.

"Like that-- _fuck--_ "

One glance back is all it takes for Felix to see that Dimitri is enjoying this just as much as he is, his hand on his cock, furiously masturbating himself.

"Don't you dare fucking come," he hisses, Dimitri groaning. "Put a finger in my ass and _fuck_ me."

Dimitri is delightfully good at taking directions, Felix muttering " _two fingers_ ," after just a short while. He's starting to gape when Dimitri pulls his fingers out, which is more than enough for him, and he pulls Dimitri back by his hair. 

"Enough. Lie back."

Dimitri doesn't have to be told twice, Felix watching his face as he stares up at him in absolute awe. Felix never did suck him off when they were younger, but he at least needs to give him a taste of it now-- wet him enough to penetrate him with relative ease. 

Judging by Dimitri's noises and the buck of his hips as Felix's lips wrap around the head of his cock, he's more than rewarded for his thus-far minimal efforts. Pulling back, he can't help but chuckle. "You're way too fucking easy to please," he tells him, and goes back down on him just as Dimitri did for him all those years ago. 

Allowing his tongue to cradle the underside of his cock, Felix's hands keep his hips pinned to the bed. It earns him the most delightful flurry of moans, something he certainly won't begrudge him for. 

Still, he doesn't stay long with Dimitri's cock in his throat. The last thing he wants is for him to come too soon, Felix pulling back and shifting to straddle him, instead. 

If he was in awe before, the look of absolutely enamored shock is more than enough to satisfy Felix as he spreads himself open and lowers himself down on Dimitri's cock, taking breaks every so often to allow his body to accommodate the stretching. 

"F-fuck," Dimitri gasps, a blush on his face, mouth agape in seeming ecstasy. And then, when Felix manages to take all of him inside-- "I love you."

It _almost_ throws Felix, but he catches himself and swallows hard, downing his feelings like a shot that burns all the way into his gut. "Took you long enough," he says, allowing himself to slowly rock up and down his king's length. 

"Are you going to touch my cock or am I going to have to do all the work around here?" he asks, Dimitri's hips stuttering up into him as he quickly moves to wrap his hand around Felix's length. It's not Dimitri's mouth, but it's still _Dimitri's_ hands touching him, and that's more than enough for him to throw his head back and groan with each penetration he allows himself. 

"Y-you feel--"

" _Don't_ ," Felix tells him, gripping his thigh for leverage as he speeds up his movements. 

"I love you, Felix," he says again, and Felix almost feels himself lose control. Letting himself fall forward, he catches himself with his hands on either side of Dimitri's head.

"Don't tell me that, either." _Not if you want me to last. Not if you want me to let you go_. "Before you start making promises you can't keep."

He kisses him to shut him up, which mostly works except that he can't see the look on his face anymore and it's impossible _not_ to think about Dimitri saying _I love you--_ and twice, at that. 

_I love you, Felix._

He thinks about how he hasn't said it back, not _really_ , and then realizes he's thinking far too much for what they're doing, and stops. Pulling back just enough to see the adoring, lovestruck look on Dimitri's face, he reaches down to wrap his hand around Dimitri's, guiding him on just how to jerk him off. 

Dimitri's hips stutter into him again, and suddenly Felix is losing control and feeling the pulse of Dimitri's cock follow him shortly thereafter. His come is all over Dimitri's chest, which makes him feel more proud than anything else, and before he can stop himself, he's kissing him again. 

"Don't ever leave me again," he tells him, and pulls back up and off of him.

They clean themselves up, Felix's ass still throbbing from their sex, though he doesn't regret it in the least. It's a comfortable enough silence between them as Felix slowly gets dressed, his thoughts coming to a head only slowly, reluctantly. It's an idea that's been lingering beneath the surface since the moment Dimitri kissed him back in the training hall, and Felix slowly realizes just why he hasn't been able to say it back yet. 

"You're going to have to make a choice eventually," he says, fastening the clasps of his cloak. "And since I already know what choice you'll make, you don't have to stress out about telling me."

"Felix--"

"It's fine. I'll be fine. Worry about you. You've got a kingdom to lead."

"I can do that with you by my side."

He has to fight the urge to laugh as he turns to look at him over his shoulder.

"Can you, though?"

Dimitri doesn't say anything.

&

Felix knows that, no matter how much Dimitri may want it to be true, he can't. Emotionally, perhaps, but politically? He'll have a queen, a wife, and at most Felix would be a trusted advisor. 

He's not interested in being cast off to the side only to be included for the occasional tryst whenever the king feels like it. He's not a _toy_ \-- or worse, a _dog_ , willing to beg for any scrap of affection he's offered. 

And besides, even if Dimitri doesn't love Byleth-- it's not as though their getting married would be remotely as simple, not with his position as king. He would be expected to produce heirs, and Felix would again be pushed to the sidelines. 

It's Byleth who ends up finding him alone with his thoughts. He's sitting in one of the pews in the cathedral, of all places, if only because it's perhaps the last place anyone would think to look for him. 

And, well... he supposes he's hoping for answers from the Goddess.

She doesn't say his name, instead shimmying to his side in the pew.

"You should be with him," she says after a long stretch of silence. 

As far as Felix is concerned, he might as well have said _I don't need to be happy_. It's certainly what he'd be conceding if he had said the same thing to Byleth.

"He loves you."

"Not like he loves you."

What the fuck does _that_ mean?

"I don't need him to end up with someone like me only to wonder _what if_. _What if_ he'd only made the right decision. I don't even know why he'd want to end up with me. Seems more like an eternal punishment to me."

"Not to him."

Felix shakes his head, scowling. The possibility of happiness being dangled in front of his face isn't something he appreciates, not when he knows that it's an impossibility. "Most people don't look at me and think _now there's someone I want to spend the rest of my life with_. Wouldn't blame the boar for it, either"

"Do you love him?"

He doesn't have to think about it. Saying it out loud, however…

"... yes."

"Then _be with him_."

&

He thinks about Byleth's words for a long time after that. 

He even tries to take them to heart, but it's hard to overlook the fact that she'll remain the specter hovering over anything he and Dimitri could ever have together no matter what he does. 

Then again... maybe Dimitri has the same fears. 

Does he know about their history? 

If he found out, would he ever be able to look at Felix the same way again? 

Would he forgive him for doing everything in his power to cope with the loss of his best friend? Or judge him for losing faith in his eventual return?

In a way, he supposes that he's had to cope with the loss of Dimitri more than once. Not that it made it any easier. If anything, the first time was near-effortless compared to the aftermath of their parting; after all, Dimitri was still talking to him, then. Being friendly and doing his best to keep Felix from pushing him away. 

_Maybe_ , he thinks, Dimitri is feeling the same way. If he's worrying about the same things Felix is... he supposes he wouldn't be entirely surprised.

After all, Felix never returned his words to him, not really. Only in the past sense, and only while fighting. 

_I love you, Felix_.

He isn't sure he believes it, if he's honest. He meant what he said to Byleth, after all.

Who the fuck would think him worth being with, let alone forever?

Who would think him worth anything at all, beyond his skill on the battlefield? 

It's morning by the time he decides to go talk to Dimitri. He's still not entirely sure what to say, if he's honest-- aside from vague declarations that there is absolutely no way that Dimitri could love him because he's far, far too much of an asshole for _anyone_ that isn't also functionally braindead to love him-- but he thinks those will probably do the job just fine. 

Dimitri was always the big talker between the two of them, anyway. 

The sky is tinted orange by the time he steps out of his room. The air is less crisp than he prefers it, and he wishes the walls around Garreg Mach allowed for him to watch the sunset, but he supposes he's not here to stall. 

He's here to... turn left, waltz into Dimitri's room, and just fucking kiss him.

And then convince him that this isn't what he wants. 

Or something like that. 

He decides to... knock. Be polite this time. Granted, if the door doesn't open soon enough, he'll open it regardless, but-- he's _really_ trying here.

The door opens. 

Dimitri is in his loungewear, something Felix can appreciate for the sake of efficiency alone. If they do end up fucking again, he'll be extremely easy to undress. 

"Dimitri," he says slowly, deliberately. Surprise registers on Dimitri's face, which Felix supposes is warranted. 

... until he notices Byleth shifting into view behind him.

She's fully dressed, but it doesn't make a difference. He feels like he's being choked.

" _Never mind_ ," he tells him, all vitriol and hurt, and turns around.

"Felix, wait--!" 

He doesn't. He doesn't turn around, doesn't wait, and doesn't bothering sparing a glance back at the happy fucking couple. 

Instead, he packs up his things, announces his departure to Sylvain, Annette, and Ingrid, and leaves for Fraldarius territory. 

It's where he's needed far more now that the war is over, anyway.

&

The winters are cold up in Fraldarius, though Felix can't say that the fall and spring are much better. Even so, this one seems particularly bad, not that the reason for why matters to him in the least. 

His father has a seeming barrage of questions for him upon his return, with each one seeming more intent on torturing Felix than the last.

_How is the king? How is he taking to his new role?_

_Have you sworn fealty? When is that to take place?_

_When do you intend to marry?_

_Whom do you intend to marry?_

Now that the war is over, allegiance to their glorious new king and Felix's ability to produce heirs seem to be the only thing on anyone's mind, which is doubly hilarious to Felix, who is acutely aware of the fact that _I'm fucking the king_ and _we absolutely will not be able to procreate_ would not have been satisfactory answers for anyone in the least.

So he supposes it's for the best.

Then again, Rodrigue isn't wrong, either. It's what people do in times of peace-- get married and produce heirs. 

If Felix didn't dread the idea of peace before, he certainly does now. 

Byleth declared the sentiment selfish, and he supposes she's right. But here, standing on the other side of the war without Dimitri by his side, peace seems to him to a rather dreary reality. 

His father's recovery has been going well, which is mostly a good thing. As much as Rodrigue has been attempting to put the idea of marriage into Felix's head, the fact that he's still alive and kicking means that Felix has been given the gift of _time_. 

But without war on the horizon, he's not even sure what to do with it all. 

He's been training a lot, a not insignificant part of him hoping that he'll have a way to put that training to use. A rebellion or another battle, perhaps-- and that _is_ selfish, but he's so, so tired of feeling useless and unwanted. 

Even with Rodrigue's slow recovery, he still tells Felix that he's the _de facto_ Duke of House Fraldarius now. A part of him wonders if his father has noticed his change in mood, but neither of them comments on it, and Felix certainly doesn't care to bring it up of his own volition.

The downside to being the _de facto_ Duke of Fraldarius outside of wartime means that now _he's_ the one getting countless invitations to political meetings and dinners, most of them from Dimitri.

Not that he has the time. 

At least, that's the story he's been going with.

 _He_ doesn't have time to go to events and fancy banquets and balls. _He_ has Fraldarius territory to manage now that the war is over. 

Sure, that's something his father could do, but... he's also not about to say that. Not while repeatedly sending envoys in his place. 

He doesn't even care if _His Highness_ is disappointed. _He_ was disappointed. 

_Is_ disappointed.

Besides. He won't be able to hold out forever, even if he sure would like to. Even Rodrigue has begun to suspect that something is up. If he holds out on going to the capital much longer, it's going to get suspicious sooner rather than later. 

At least he's not there tonight. 

It's a fairly large-scale event-- a banquet and ball, no less-- and the thought of seeing anyone on Dimitri's arm-- Byleth or otherwise-- makes him feel sick. 

So he doesn't attend. Instead, he spends his evening doing his best to destroy yet another training dummy, wishing he actually had a worthy sparring partner around that could hold a candle to him. 

He and Dimitri always were fairly evenly matched. 

A regular Kyphon and Loog. 

He sighs, his hand tightening around the handle of his sword as he feels something other than rage starting to prod at the forefront of his mind. 

"My Lord."

The staff generally knows not to disturb him when he's training, so he knows this has to be important. 

That, or he's about to be seriously fucking annoyed.

"What."

"His Majesty The King is here."

He nearly drops his sword, Felix turning to stare at the servant.

"What the _fuck_?"

"Uh-- blonde hair, eyepatch, imposing presence...?"

"Imposing presence _my ass_ ," Felix says, already striding past the poor, dumbfounded young man to head for the entry hall. 

There's no way. 

There's no fucking way. 

"Felix. I thought I might find you here."

It really is him. The fucker actually came. He looks no different from the way Felix remembers him, but he supposes it's only been a few weeks at most-- 

He looks _good,_ if somewhat tired. 

Felix hates that.

"I'm _sorry,_ don't you have a banquet you're supposed to be at right now?"

"Ah, no. That was actually a decoy. The banquet and ball are in a week, and you're of course invited. I did tell the staff to treat your envoy as befitting a guest to the royal household, so I can assure you that he will be well-taken care of."

He thinks he'd be speechless if he wasn't so angry. _Of course_ Dimitri would eventually just come to Fraldarius. He should have gone out while he still had the chance. Just left home and not looked back-- at least for a few months until Dimitri got the idea. "When the fuck did you turn into a sneaky bastard? Or is this yet another _face_ you're adding to your collection?"

"I'm afraid I cannot take credit for that particular idea. Sylvain suggested it to me. He... said it would be the only way to ensure that I would catch you at home and unawares. I... do believe he was right about that."

"Congratulations. Now go fuck yourself."

He turns around only for Dimitri to cross the hall and grab hold of his arm, something he's tempted to sock him for. 

"You should be grateful you're already missing a fucking eye, or I'd be considering letting you have it right now."

"I don't know why you won't just talk to me, Felix--"

"Let _fucking_ go of me."

"-- or come see me when I've tried so many times to reach you--"

"Are you _deaf_?"

Dimitri unhands him, but his peace of mind only lasts so long.

"I love you. Why won't you believe that?"

Felix feels his ears start to burn. If someone is watching them--

"If it's just that you don't feel the same way, then tell me, and I'll cease at once--"

"You want to have this fucking conversation? _Fine_. But then we're not doing it _in public_."

This time it's him that reaches for Dimitri's arm. The nearest room would be convenient, sure, but it wouldn't be even remotely as private as his room would be, where Felix knows they won't be disturbed. 

And, well. Dimitri already knows the way, which makes all of this easier on him, too, implications aside.

They stride past two servants before finally making it to his room, Felix feeling uncomfortably warm by the time he closes the door behind them.

"People know to knock here, so-- _talk_."

"I love you," Dimitri repeats, just like that.

Like it's _easy_. 

Felix could retch.

"Like hell you fucking do."

"Does the thought repulse you so? Do you just despise me that much, Felix? Just tell me if you don't feel the same way. It would be far easier than just continuing to make me hope that you might eventually see it in your heart to return to me."

"You know what, fuck you. Do you have any idea how long I searched for you when you disappeared? I have been chasing you for so long that this is actually the _first_ time that you've come after me, and this must mean that I _hate_ you now?"

"You _do_ say it an awful lot. It could give someone the impression."

"Well, I do. I _do_ hate you. I hate how much I--" He swears under his breath, raking his fingers through his hair. Gathers his thoughts. "You love _Byleth_. So go be with your fucking queen, or whatever."

"Unlike you, I haven't actually slept with her."

It's like having all the wind knocked out of him at once.

"I don't fault you," Dimitri continues. "She is a remarkable woman. I don't know if you heard, but she'll be taking on the role of Archbishop in the church and remain at Garreg Mach."

"Come to get your second-place prize, is that it?"

"Not at all," he says, shaking his head. "As I said before, I do care for her a great deal, but not in the way you seem to think." A beat. "Not in the way I care about you."

"Dammit," Felix mutters, momentarily considering punching the wall. Probably not the way most people respond to feeling things, but-- he's never been that well-adjusted. 

What's far more baffling to him is that Dimitri _knows_ this. 

"I don't understand you at all. No one in their right mind--" He shakes his head. No. " _Why_."

"Why? You wish to know why I feel this way about you? I'm not sure what could be simpler, frankly. Even if you deny it, you know me better than anyone else. Though you hide your heart, it is bigger and feels far more deeply than anyone's I've ever known. You're strongest in all the ways you think that you are not-- you're caring, dependable, honest, and true. Yet you are somehow convinced that you have no qualities that could make another person care for you the way you care for them. And whether you wish to believe it or not, you saved me from my own self-loathing. Where I live in the past, you look to the future.   
  
"If I _didn't_ love you as I do, I'd think those qualities to be vital in an advisor and right-hand man. As it is, I want nothing more than for you to stand by my side as my consort. Because you were right all along-- you are nothing like Glenn. You being my oldest friend, I should have been able to recognize at least that much far sooner than I did. You are your own man, one I'd be honored to stand by for the rest of time-- or at least as long as you'll have me." 

"I regret asking now. This is embarrassing," he mutters, his gaze averted. He can only hope that the light from the windows is dim enough to not give him away entirely.

"I love you," Dimitri says again, as if trying to rub it in.

"You don't have to keep saying it," he says, letting out a sigh. "Did Byleth tell you about..." He waves his hand, hoping that's enough. Dimitri said it earlier, but the origins of his knowledge are a mystery, and he does have to wonder. 

"She didn't have to. I was already aware. As I said before, I cannot fault you. She is a remarkable woman."

"That's not why I--"

"-- and I was acting rather... insufferable."

They'd also been apart for a long time after having parted on poor terms, but he doesn't mention that. 

"... I guess you've got me all figured out," he says after a long while, still staring rather intently at the floor. 

"Not at all. I just... think anyone would have to have some insight into how you function in order to love you and see past how abrasive your speech may at first appear."

This really _is_ embarrassing. 

"It could never work."

"I'm not certain what you mean."

"Your advisors, your people, the whole fucking kingdom-- they can't possibly just accept this. How the fuck would we even produce heirs? It's all Rodrigue talks about these days. Nevermind what would happen to Fraldarius. Rodrigue's still managing it now, but what about when he's gone, too?"

"You could continue managing it from the capital, if you so wished. Perhaps we could even stay here for extended periods of time-- or you could go while I continued to attend to the kingdom or traveled where I was needed. As for heirs-- frankly, I don't see why we couldn't just adopt. We don't have to worry about gaining the approval of my parents or anyone else. I _am_ king, and I have the approval of the people. If my advisors have a problem with my decision to choose you, they can take it up with me."

Felix stares at him for a long time after that. It's not quite eye contact, not yet-- but it's close enough for now. This conversation is mortifying enough all on its own without adding that in, too.

Finally, "You're serious about this."

"I am."

No hesitation. Felix wonders how he does it. 

"I can also talk to Rodrigue, if you'd like," Dimitri continues, undeterred. "It only seems fair after almost causing his death and now wishing to marry his son."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll talk to my old man myself."

"Should I take that to mean that your answer is _yes_?"

 _Fuck_.

"... yeah. I suppose it is."

Going to sit on Felix's four-poster, Dimitri looks up at him. "I really would like it if you could come next week. After all... you do owe me a dance."

"You don't forget anything, do you? You're really annoying, you know that?"

Coming to stand between Dimitri's legs, he finally allows himself to meet his eyes.

"Considering how much bigger this bed is than the one at Garreg Mach... would you be willing to share it with me tonight?"

"Shut up," he mutters, which Dimitri knows means _yes_ , and leans down to kiss him, his knee finding purchase on the bed. 

His fingers thread into his hair, Felix's teeth finding Dimitri's bottom lip to tease at until he's granted the moan he wished to elicit from the start. 

_This_ feels good, natural-- a return to form for them, but also a far more comfortable place for Felix to be. They can talk circles around the politics of actually being together, of how much Dimitri apparently loves him and how stupid fucking well he knows Felix for hours, but-- this is easier. 

_Showing_ someone you care instead of telling them.

He just hopes that Dimitri can hear him loud and clear from just how desperately he's kissing him back. 

Not that Dimitri is any different from him right now-- something Felix realizes the second he can feel his hand running over the front of his pants, over the first hint of his erection. 

"Are you seriously trying to tease me right now?" Felix asks, pulling back from his lips.

"And if I said yes?"

"That's not how this works," he says, pressing against Dimitri's shoulder to force him back. He doesn't resist, and Felix pins his hands on either side of him, effortless. Under normal circumstances, he might have thought it too easy, but… right now, it feels more like a show of trust than anything else, Felix leaning in to kiss him again. 

Dimitri's wrists stay immobile even after Felix's hand leaves to slip further down his body, and only when Felix starts touching him through the front of his pants does he allow his fingers to thread into the sheets beneath him, hips arching up to meet Felix's hand as he lets out a wry laugh. 

"I take it this means you are allowed to tease _me_ , then? Haven't you made me wait long enough by now?"

"I'll tease you as long as I please," Felix says, and does quite the opposite. The closure of Dimitri's pants is undone fast enough, his hand slipping past to wrap around his cock. 

The groans that follow are a reward in and of themselves, but they're not _enough_ , and Felix nods to Dimitri's front. "Help me get your breastplate off. You're too fucking difficult to undress."

"You're one to talk," Dimitri mutters, sitting up to discard his cloak and the rest of his armor as Felix pulls back to watch him, his own fingers working to undo the buckles of his own coat. Swords, belts, gloves, cape--

"There are too many individual fucking pieces, I swear--"

"It's cold up in Fraldarius," Dimitri explains, neatly discarding his own clothes as Felix offers him a glower.

"Right. I'd almost forgotten," he mutters, haphazardly dropping his own clothes before climbing back onto the bed, knees on either side of Dimitri, hands at his waist. 

"I was almost done, Felix." 

"I can take care of at least that much," he says, and pushes him back again. 

This time when his hand wraps around Dimitri's cock, so do his lips and teeth around the crook of his throat, eager to leave a mark, anything to make this feel more permanent. His tongue tries to soothe the aftermath, but Dimitri is moaning either way, and Felix can't say that he minds. 

"F-Felix--"

"Your collar should be high enough to cover it up, so don't complain."

"Nothing could be further from my mind."

"What, then?" He allows his hand to leave Dimitri's cock if only momentarily, Felix sighing as he reaches back to pull off his own boots and socks, his spats long-discarded. 

"I-- I brought you something. But it can wait until later."

"I can't believe you interrupted me touching your cock for that," Felix mutters only to feel Dimitri's hands in his hair, pulling him closer and into another kiss. It's enough to prompt him to start pulling Dimitri's pants off him, Felix suddenly grateful for the warmth emanating from the hearth.

Not that he'd ever mention his concern aloud. 

Instead, he pulls back and nods toward the pillows. "Get back there while I pull these off." 

Dimitri casts a glance at the thick, woolen blankets, recognition seeming to dawn on his features as he lets out a small laugh, one Felix wishes didn't make his heart feel quite so light. "Actually... I had a slightly different idea. Surely, you remember what we used to do back in my room at Garret Mach-- before the Heron Ball, that is."

"What's your point?"

"I miss it. I'd... like to taste you again."

"Only you'd say something so ridiculously sentimental."

"Would you have preferred me to call it making love to you with my mouth?"

Felix is tempted to smack him for that one. 

" _No_."

Still, Felix acquiesces, tugging off his pants before shifting to lean back against the pillows. "Well? You wanted this."

"I do."

If he's honest, Felix has also missed this. There's something incredibly nostalgic-- bordering on vulnerable-- about the sight of Dimitri's lips wrapping around the head of his cock, the expression in his eyes when he looks up at Felix. 

They've always been so, so blue. And when Dimitri sinks all the way down on his cock, it's all Felix can think about, his hand threading up into his hair. 

_Fuck_. 

Feeling Dimitri's hand come up to cradle his balls, it strikes Felix just how well he knows his body, knows _him_ , and just how vulnerable that makes him feel. 

"Are you _trying_ to make me come early?" he growls, his breath catching as he tries not to let it show just how hard it is to hold it together when he can feel Dimitri's tongue running all the way up the length of his cock. 

And then an idea strikes him, Felix winding his fingers into his hair to tug him off of him.

"Stop," he says, and Dimitri listens. 

Pulling one knee up toward his body, he slides down slightly, hoping it opens himself up enough without making him feel _too_ vulnerable. 

"Eat my ass," he says, his voice trembling as he reaches down to get his balls out of Dimitri's way. 

He doesn't have to be asked twice. Instead, Felix can feel him push his hand away to replace it with his own and suddenly not only is Dimitri eating his ass, he's jerking him off with his hand at the same time. 

No one should be that talented, he decides, Felix's hand tightening in Dimitri's hair as he feels his body start to open up to him. 

Before he can even think to give other instructions, Dimitri's mouth is back around his cock, one finger cautiously starting to press inside of his ass. 

"Getting pretty sure of ourselves, aren't we?"

"You taught me," Dimitri tells him, Felix suddenly regretting saying anything that would make him pull off his cock. 

"Get back to work," he decides to tell him instead, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he feels Dimitri add a second finger.

He wants to get _fucked_ already. Is that so much to ask? 

"If you don't hurry it up already, I'm just going to take over," he pants, willing himself not to push back against his fingers. 

"Have you done that before?" Dimitri asks him, Felix's cock hard and wet against his cheek. It's a dizzying sight, and yet almost impossible to look away from even as Dimitri's fingers keep moving.

"Fucked myself on my fingers? Yeah. Some of us actually know how to masturbate."

"Did you think of me?"

"Shut up," Felix says, voice breathy. That's a _yes_ to anyone that knows him, but he decides in that moment that he doesn't care. "Can't you feel me gaping already? Lie back."

He's only just started, but it doesn't matter. He wants to be on Dimitri's cock now, and with him looking this self-satisfied, Felix is just about itching to make him squirm for once.

"You're not cold?" he asks once Dimitri is on his back, Felix taking his place between his legs.

Dimitri shakes his head. "Not in the least."

"Good. I'd hate for us to have to stop just because of you."

"Sure," Dimitri says, a small smile playing on his lips, as though he really can just see right through him.

The urge to have him whimpering is almost to a fever-pitch by now, and Felix doesn't waste any more time, taking his cock into his mouth and sinking down without hesitation. 

He's rewarded almost immediately, Dimitri arching his body up in an effort for Felix to somehow take him deeper. 

"F-Felix--"

In the past, he just briefly throated his cock-- a utilitarian thing to help them both out-- but... now he wants to see Dimitri squirming.

He needs to do this more, take his time and do it properly until he can feel him coming in his mouth. Now isn't the time for that, but the thought is there-- one of a future together. 

They can craft their very own to-do list and live to see it accomplished. 

After all, they have all the time in the world.

"Felix, _please--_ " 

Pulling off of him, Felix wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Making him come with his mouth can wait. "Well, if you're going to _beg_..."

Shifting to straddle him, Felix takes a moment to look at him, flushed features, parted lips and all. Dimitri is a sight to behold. 

It's hard to believe that this man wants to actually tolerate his presence for the rest of his life. 

Felix is on his knees, just barely hovering over him, but the promise of Dimitri's cock is enough to have him feeling impatient. Reaching back to ease his descent atop him, it's slow going at first, but his hands' joint guidance alongside the look of utter adoration on Dimitri's face make quick work of it regardless. 

Sex back at Garreg Mach felt good. But this-- sex with feelings, feelings that are _returned--_ is infinitely better. 

Not that he's discounting Dimitri's repeated confessions of love in hindsight.

A low shudder goes through him as he feels himself bottom out, Dimitri buried inside of him as far as he could possibly reach. His head falls back as he allows his hips to shift back and forth, reveling not only in the sensation of being so utterly filled to the brim, but also the idea of how much Dimitri must be struggling to hold himself back.

Then again, he's been holding himself back for what feels like years. 

He can make Dimitri wait just a little longer.

" _Felix_ ," he rasps, his hips fighting against his hold on them. "Y-you feel--"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Felix says, but even he can feel his resolve slipping, shifting his hips up slightly only to be met with a barely-stifled groan.

"I love you."

 _Fuck_.

Allowing himself to straighten, Felix shifts forward, his hands finding Dimitri's wrists to pin again. 

"You do, huh? How's that working out for you?"

"I'm happy," Dimitri says, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. 

Coming from him, the veritable king of moping and dwelling on the past, it feels a bit like being gut-punched. 

"F-fuck you," Felix hears himself say, but his voice trembles just enough to make it sound like _I love you, too_ to both of them. 

Seiros help him.

He starts moving atop Dimitri's cock to stop himself from saying anything else _ridiculously_ stupid, but he allows their gazes to meet regardless, his breathing shallow as Dimitri's hands find his hips, helping to guide him. 

Fuck him, but it really does feel a bit like making love.

He breaks from the look in Dimitri's eye when it gets to be too much, resting his forehead against his instead. It's still intimate, but-- 

It's easier to focus on the fact that they're just two sweaty bodies moving in tandem, on the way Dimitri's fingers are digging into his hips, the breathy noises he's making and the occasional grunt that leaves him. The smell of him, the feeling of Dimitri inside him and somehow surrounding him all at once--

And then he shifts his angle, suddenly fucking up into Felix, and it's all he can do to keep from letting him take over control when he's so close to losing it. 

He reaches down to grasp his cock, already knowing full well that he's only moments away from his own release, a shuddered echo of Dimitri's name leaving him.

"It's quite all right, Felix--" Dimitri says, and Felix swallows down his self-loathing and lets himself give in to the intimacy of the moment, burying his face in the crook of his neck. 

He comes with a grunt, his ass clenching hard enough around the cock inside him that he knows Dimitri's release isn't far off. He can hear Dimitri's groans, can feel his hips' last stuttered attempts at thrusting before coming to a rest, and it's more than enough for him.

Felix pushes himself back up to sitting as soon as he's done catching his breath, his knees week and... _everything_ sweaty, but he doesn't care. 

"I'll talk to father tomorrow," he says, as though they didn't just have extremely intimate sex, starting to ease himself off of Dimitri with a groan. Cleaning this will make for a mess, he remembers at least that much, not to mention the soreness he'll be left to suffer tomorrow, but-- he doesn't care.

It's all worth it in the end. 

"Felix," Dimitri says, his hand shooting out to grasp hold of his wrist just as he's about to stand. "You'll stay with me tonight... won't you?"

"Yeah," he says, clearing his throat and turning away as he feels his ears start to burn all over again. "Just need to wash up. You're still fucking _dripping_ out of me." 

For all his complaining, it doesn't take him long before he's back beside Dimitri, the two of them at the head of the bed this time, pillows and all. 

"Father will expect us at dinner," Felix says slowly, his fingers dancing over Dimitri's hip, head propped up by his other hand. It gives him something to pay attention to other than Dimitri's eye contact, and... it keeps him from doing what he really wants to do, which is... to spoon him. 

Not now. Not yet. 

"You in particular," he adds, Dimitri letting out a soft laugh.

"Perhaps. But we do have time before then, don't we?"

"Some, yes."

"Then I would rather like to be selfish and keep you here for myself... at least that long."

Felix doesn't object. 

Even later that evening, after enduring his father's company for dinner for far too long, does he allow Dimitri to be selfish with him. 

Then again… he wants him to be. 

Even despite promising that they could stay together tonight, Felix knows it would have been all too easy to convince Dimitri to just take the guest room for now. After all-- Rodrigue doesn't know _yet_. 

But… at this rate, he will. It's just a matter of time.

"The staff will talk," he says, pulling off his shoes from where he's sitting at the edge of the bed. Behind him, Dimitri is pulling off his own clothes, and he wonders if the light of the fireplace would give away his shame if he did decide to look. 

"Let them." Dimitri laughs. "Though... I do suppose that's easier for me to say, given that I don't live here."

"I just don't want father finding out before I tell him. Not sure how it'll look that I'm sharing a bed with the king when there are plenty of guest bedrooms here."

"Then I'll ensure that it looks appropriate," Dimitri says, and slides up onto the bed. 

It takes him a moment to notice that he's holding something out to him, and yet another moment to realize that it's a fucking _ring_. 

"What the fuck," Felix mutters, his eyes wide, his fingers tightening in the sheets. 

"I meant what I said before. If... that was unclear."

"I, uh-- yeah," he manages, just barely. "... no one will give you shit for this, right? You're sure about this?"

"Yes. There hasn't been a doubt in my mind for some time now. I don't care what anyone says."

Dimitri places his hand atop his, leaving Felix to wonder if it was always so effortless for him, acknowledging and accepting his feelings. He's not sure it's a trait he outright _envies_ , but he can't deny that it would probably make life much easier at times.

"I strove to be selfless for a long time. I thought it my job as king to give all of myself to the memories of the fallen, and not just those by my blade. If it is possible for me to be selfish now, in spite of all that I have done... then I would like to be selfish about this, and look to the future with you."

"Yeah," Felix says, the word nearly soundless.

He remembers that he still has the ring his father gave him-- he'd intended for Felix to be the one to wear it, but it seems far more appropriate to give it to Dimitri now. 

"I'll get you yours tomorrow," he says quietly, picking up the ring to slide onto his finger. Dimitri looks astonished that he would have one to return to him, but he doesn't say anything, and Felix doesn't feel the particular need to explain. "Don't want to draw unnecessary attention to the fact that I have company."

Engaged or otherwise. 

"Thank you for wearing it. Thank you for saying yes," Dimitri says in lieu of his question, which suits him just fine.

"Yeah," he says again, a small smile finding its way onto his face. "I can only refuse you so many times before you'll start to believe it."

And he can't risk that, wouldn't wish to.

They don't stay up much longer after that. 

For the first time, Dimitri pulls off his eyepatch in front of Felix, and he has to resist the urge to touch, to ask any number of ridiculous questions. 

_Does it hurt?_

_How did it happen?_

_If I had been there--_

He voices none of them.

Instead, Felix waits until the embers of the fireplace are the only light remaining in the room before allowing himself to slip his arm around Dimitri's body and hold him close, his shame well-hidden by the darkness. Dimitri's body may as well be a heater all on its own, especially under the thick blankets necessary around here, but he doesn't care. 

Here, on the other side of war with Dimitri by his side, he thinks he might have found something that feels astonishingly like happiness.

"I love you, too," he finally whispers, and it's only a small part of him that hopes that Dimitri is asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I cannot tell you how much it means to me!! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> The absolutely amazing, illustrious, incredible [@taiwonton](https://twitter.com/taiwonton) drew [breathtakingly beautiful art](https://twitter.com/taiwonton/status/1284601597004337158) to go with this fic and I couldn't be happier or more humbled!! 😭
> 
> If you feel so inclined, you can come scream with me about Dimilix over at [@androugenius](https://twitter.com/androugenius)!


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